


Farmhouse Blues

by Hello_fandoms



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, F/M, Forgiveness, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Sick Tony Stark, The Avengers Are Good Bros, The Avengers Need a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Nightmares, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Uncle Tony Stark, Worried Clint Barton, Worried Natasha Romanov, Worried Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:07:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27550504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_fandoms/pseuds/Hello_fandoms
Summary: Tony never intended to create Ultron and while he knows other people were involved, he takes complete blame for being the one to think up the coding. Everything Ultron does, he takes the blame for. He hasn't slept much since they invaded the bunker, his nightmares coming back full force. The vision he had feeds them. Eventually, his lack of sleep comes to a head while in the Barton residence, where he was welcomed in with warmth he wasn't used to. He's bonding with children he never met and getting closer with his teamates. Confessions are made, events change, and Tony might finally figure out that he has more people he can depend on besides Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy.This is my first work posted to this community! If there's any tags I need to add or anything else, let me know! (Also, I'm bad at summaries.)
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Tony Stark, Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Tony Stark, Clint Barton/Laura Barton, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Avengers Team
Comments: 17
Kudos: 121





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Welcome to the story! I have many other fanfictions to share, but this will be the first one I post here. Hope you enjoy!

Staying in Clint's house was an unexpected occurence. He had never gone through any personal files in SHIELD before the organization failed and had never had an inkling of a clue about his friend having a wife or children. He couldn't deny that it hurt him a little that his prank buddy didn't tell him about his secret life, but at the same time, he could understand. His family was a well kept secret and Tony could get not wanting it to get to the wrong ears by accident. But did his friend really think he would tell anyone? 

He had tried sticking to the corners at first, not wanting to be more of a bother than he had become in the past few days. He had even tried to help, but that hadn't worked out when he and Steve started arguing again while chopping up logs for firewood. Tony was thankful that he was asked to look at the tractor, not knowing how long he would have been able to hold up his confident front against Steve. 

He had fixed the cobb web covered tractor after his impromptu meeting with the one eyed pirate himself and had even taken it out for a test run. The look on Clint's face when he saw a tractor thought to be dead seven years ago still working was priceless and Tony had never wished for a camera more in his life. 

But going off the grid meant going completely off the grid, so he had no phone or tablet. Just a suit that was packed away in pieces.

He had fixed the tractor at the cost of his clothes, but it had been a small price to pay and Tony was used to his clothes being destroyed in the lab. He had changed and had only then noticed how late it was getting, the sun becoming low in the sky. A ball of anxiety that had been forming since they came felt to increase in size for a few seconds before he fought it down as best he could. 

His anxiety stemmed from being in a new and totally different place. It had eased when he was fixing the tractor, engineering being his element, but then he was back in a farmhouse with children running around. Children who didn't realize he was a former weapons manufacturer. Children who didn't realize that they were in the presence of the Merchant of Death. Such an old moniker, yet it stuck so well.

He had tried to make up for what he'd done. He'd tried so hard. He'd shut down the weapons division despite it being against the opinion of everyone he knew. He'd created the Ironman suit to save people. He'd joined the Avengers in hope to make up for a lot more things he'd done in his past. 

The partying, the recklessness, his nativity to what his own godfather was doing, Yinsen's death. He was trying to make up for everything. In creating Ultron, he might be destroying everything. He had tried to protect the world from a threat he'd seen in that wormhole. He had tried to protect the universe and his team from his vision. He had tried to protect the world from himself. 

Yet he only succeeded in creating a murder bot. 

Taking a deep breath to try and calm his racing heart, he migrated from room to room in the large house soundlessly. He marked spots that needed to be prepared in his mind whille making a list of things he needed on a notepad and pen he'd had in his pocket. He wasn't sure when he put it there, but he was thankful for it. He wanted to help fix up the house because despite the fact that Clint wasn't terrible with tools, he wasn't the best and some things needed to be redone or restructured. 

Clint said they would be staying here for the night, maybe tomorrow night, too. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. On one hand, they needed to go after Ultron, but on the other hand, the team needed to rest up. It would also be good for Clint to be with his family again, even if only for a little while. 

With his passed two sleepless nights and the exhausting activities, Tony wasn't sure if he'd be able to stay awake for another night, and it wound be a test of his atmnia to stay awake for another one on top of it. He wasn't exactly in his college years anymore, and week binges were now harder to pull off. 

Steve and Clint were out working in the yard before the sun went completely down. The kids were playing video games on the couch and Tony thought he saw Bruce and Natasha talking on the back porch earlier, so he had decided to let them be for a bit. There was obviously something going on, there had been for a while now, and Tony wasn't one to but in on personal relationships like that. It may seem like he was, but he only eavesdropped when he felt like there was something big and dangerous going on. 

He moved to the kitchen, notepad and pen put away. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to try and hide the fidgeting they did when he was nervous. His tapping on countertops sometimes annoyed people, as well as when his feet or leg nervously bounced, so he tried to keep himself moving. 

Laura, Clint's wife, was cooking dinner. Chicken with a side of salad by the looks of it. She leaned down and opened a cabinet, seeming to have not noticed him quite yet. Or maybe she had and just didn't acknowledge him. Maybe she didn't want him here. The woman reached out and started to pull a heavy duty pan out, letting out a small breath as she struggled. Without thinking, he jumped forward and crouched, pulling the pan out for her. He didn't want her to hurt herself, especially when being so far along in pregnancy. 

"Here," he said as he rubbed at the back of his neck, holding the pan by the handle with his other hand. She took it from him with a small smile. "Uhm," he trailed off for a second. Darn it, the lack of sleep was getting to him. "Could I help?" 

"That would be very nice of you. Do you think you could chop those heads of lettuce for the salad over there? And the tomatoes?" She asked as she turned, placing the pan on the stove. 

Tony nodded. "Yes ma'am." 

He grabbed a knife from the cutlery drawer she pointed to and started chopping up the vegetables, using the cutting board on the island with deft movements. He was careful and precise, but also quick as he possibly could be. He didn't want to keep Mrs. Barton waiting. 

He was halfway through the second head of lettuce when he heard a low curse. He put down the knife and turned toward the woman at the stove. As if feeling his questioning gaze, she turned to him. "I don't have enough chicken for so many people." 

Tony bit his lip, looking around at the open cabinets. He could see a lot of noodles and plenty of clean pots. "I think I may have a solution," he said slowly. He explained his plan to her and she nodded with approval at the end of it and started putting away the wrapped chicken. The genius grabbed the largest pot he could find and filled it with water before beginning to heat it on the stove. 

As she got out the noodles, Mrs. Barton turned to him. "I think you, Mr. Stark, just saved dinner from being a potluck."

Tony blinked owlishly at her as he accepted the packs she handed to him and started pouring them into the pot. "I don't know about that. You would have come up with a far better solution, Mrs. Barton." 

She raised an eyebrow. "I doubt it, and call me Laura."

"Aye aye," Tony said as he poured the last pack of noddles into the pot. As he watched them boil and listened to Laura prepare the meat, he hoped there would be enough food and he wouldn't fail again. "And please, call me Tony. Mr. Stark was my father." 

"What's cooking?" Cooper asked, walking into the kitchen with Lila just behind him. He looked a little suprised at the sight of Tony in the kitchen, stirring the pot, but the man only smiled. 

"A surpise," Laura told her son, ruffling his hair quickly as the meat sizzled. "What have you two been doing?"

The kids ended up sitting on the barstools at the counter, talking to their mother. Tony listened with mild interest, eyes on the noddles that were no longer brittle as twigs. He didn't notice his hands had stopped shaking until he was carefully pouring out the water into the sink. 

"Mr. Stark, could I ask you a question?" Cooper asked when Laura took over the cooking so Tony could finish chopping vegetables. He paused and turned his attention to the kid who couldn't have been over ten years old.

"Call me Tony, Cooper. And sure, what do you got?" 

The boy shuffled a little in his seat, fingers drumming nervously against the countertop. "Could you teach me how to build a circuit board?" He asked so quietly that Tony could barely hear him. He must have took the look of surprise on his face as something else because Cooper began to backtrack. "I mean- you don't have to- sorry, I didn't want to bother-"

"Sure I can teach you," the genius said. "Breathe, kid. As soon as I finish helping your mom, I could show you. That is, if your mother is okay with it." He and Cooper looked at Laura, Lila watching with interest. 

The brown haired woman smiled. "Of course. In fact, go on ahead, Tony."

"But-"

"I have it handled from here," she insisted, taking the knife from his hand and placing it by the mostly chopped veggies. She gave him a light shove toward the doorway, the two kids already standing and waiting more or less patiently. "Go."

Tony knew not to argue by that tone. He was a genius who did some reckless things, but he wasn't stupid. Far from it, no matter what some might say.

Ultron came to the forefront of his mind, but he pushed the thoughts away for now. Cooper wanted to learn how to build a circuit board, so he would teach him how. Tony never thought himself the mentoring type, but here he was, following two children up the stairs into a room that was decorated with Star Wars lego sets, engineering posters, and a desk with a stack of text books all on science and engineering. The bed spread was Star Trek and Tony couldn't help but smile as Cooper dug around under said bed before pulling out a box of metal, wires, gears, glass, and other things of that sort. 

Tony sat on the bed beside Cooper and demonstrated how to build a circuit board first, talking the kid through everything he was doing. Lila spun around in the chair at the desk, playing with random blocks of legos that she had settled in her lap. 

Half an hour later, Tony clapped with Lila as Cooper finished his first circuit board. "You did amazing kid and you are a really fast learner. Very, very intelligent." The boy blushed as Tony absentmindedly ruffled his hair while dishing out praise. "How about you go show your dad?" He suggested and Cooper enthusiastically jumped up and ran out the door, leaving Lila and Tony to follow on his heels. 

Clint, Steve, Bruce, and Natasha were settled on the couches. The first two were wiping sweat from their brows (Steve with noticeably less) while his other two friends were settled beside each other. Tony saw Bruce give her a tentative smile that she reflected and he couldn't help the bud of happiness he felt for them show in the discreet thumbs up he gave his science bro. The man blushed. 

As Cooper went to present his finished engineering project to Clint, Tony had a sense of deja vu of when he tried to present his first circuit board to his dad. Howard hadn't paid him much attention until later on and then his four year old face was plastered across every newspaper. The part that hurt most was that his genius seemed to be the only thing his dad cared about, not Tony himself. 

But Tony knew Clint, so he knew that his best friend would not be like that. He mentally shook himself out of the memory as he stood at the bottom of the stairs, not having been noticed yet. Lila had ran ahead and was jumping up and down beside Natasha. The genius watched, leaned against the post at the end of the stairs, as Laura came in and asked what was going on. Cooper excitedly presented his new circuit board and was showered by praise. 

"This is amazing," Clint said as he carefully studied it in his son's hands. 

"I couldn't have done it without Tony," Cooper said which caused heads to swivel toward him. He gave a wave before speaking. 

"Clint, you didn't tell me you had a budding engineer in the house," he said as he walked over to stand behind his friend who still sat on the couch. "Cooper is incredibly smart and it was an honor to show him how to build a circuit board. He's a really quick learner, too."

"Thanks for teaching him, Tony," Clint responded, head turned to look at him. The archer gave him a real smile and Tony couldn't help but smile back. 

Laura clapped her hands, getting everyone's attention. "Dinner is ready. It was originally going to be chicken and salad, but I found that I didn't have enough chicken. Tony helped me make spaghetti instead." Cooper and Lila ran to wash up at the kitchen sink while all the other Avengers turned to stare at Tony with surprised eyes. Except Natasha, but he could tell by her raised eyebrow that she was at least a little suprised. 

He huffed out a breath of air, pretending to be irritated despite the small smile on his lips. "I can cook some things, you know."

"Not omlets," Natasha interjected. 

"Omlets and I have a hate-hate relationship." 

Clint laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. They all walked to the kitchen to wash up, per Laura's orders, before trailing into the large dining room to eat. 

____

Clint and Laura were getting ready for bed in their bedroom after sorting out where each Avenger would sleep. They didn't have enough guest rooms, so Clint had decided to bunk some together. Natasha and Bruce shared a room with minimal protest, Lila slept in his brother's room, so that left Steve and Tony together. 

The genius had flat out refused, opting for the couch instead. Clint didn't know how comfortable it would be as the couch was old and lumpy, but Tony had been twiddling his thumbs anxiously since sharing rooms was suggested. That was the reason he let him be. 

It had been hard to get Lila and Cooper to bed that night. They still hadn't winded down from the excitement of all the Avengers being in the house and had begged to stay up longer. Clint fell for the puppy eyes and they stayed up past eleven, nearly to midnight.

"Clint," Laura started as she closed the closet door. Clint was settled on the bed as he finished cleaning his arrows. He put them away immeadiately, recognizing her tone, and gave her his full attention. "what exactly happened for you and the others to come here? I know you said it was an emergency and a hide out was needed, but I still don't have details."

"A diabolical AI named Ultron happened. Tony and Bruce created him and he went haywire. I don't exactly know why, but cap said that Tony was being reckless."

"Do you believe that?" She asked as she rounded the bed and sat down beside him. 

It was a moment before he replied. "No." 

"What do you believe then?" Laura asked as she settled her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around his wife. 

"Tony has always been a little... out there. He would risk his life on the battle field, but whatever he did was always calculated to the best outcome. Sometimes he doesn't have time to tell us what he was doing because he saw something we didn't. He's a genius, Laura, and I don't think he would have created something like Ultron without a push. Something went wrong in that bunker. He's been different ever since. Secretive, running risks he'd never do, and closed off. The Maximoff girl... she's been giving everyone these visions. Tony didn't say anything about her giving him one, but..." 

"You think she did," Laura concluded. He nodded. "Talk to him."

Clint looked down at her. "You think I should?"

"Yeah," she replied. "From what I've seen of Tony Stark, he is very nice, charming, but also a little timid. I'm guessing he doesn't act very timid often?" Clint shook his head. "He walks like the weight of the world is on his shoulders when he thinks that no one is looking. Ask him what he was really trying to do when Ultron came to mind." 

He bit his lip, considering it. He and Tony were quite close, he could admit. They played pranks on the good captain and Fury together. They had the same sense of humor and snark. The two of them got along well, but Clint had never tried to have a deep conversation with him. Maybe now was the time. "I will," he decided. "Tomorrow, when I can get him alone somewhere." 

"How about the barn? Something tells me he's more relaxed around machines." 

"Good idea." 

Laura turned off the light and they settled into bed. Clint wrapped his arms around her as she pressed her face into his chest. Their breathing synced and it wasn't long before they were both asleep.

____ 

Tony watched as the light finally cut off in Laura and Clint's bedroom. He was lying on the bumpy couch, one arm behind his head as his other hand was settled on his stomach. He was dressed in his MIT hoodie and sweatpants to try and fight off the small chill he had gotten an two hours ago. It had started when he got out of the shower and just wouldn't go away, along with a weight on his chest that was growing.

He stared at the ceiling, occasionally glancing at the clock on the wall that he could barely see with the light of the moon outside. The hands slowly moved around the face, tracking the slow passage of time in the dark hours. 

At some point, Tony drifted off into a restless sleep. The vision flashed in front of his eyes, the images he saw having been burned into his retinas, but this time everyone said the same thing, at the same time, before they died. You could have saved us. He jerked awake with a gasp, eyes wide and terror filling him. He felt freezing and hot at the same time, his skin clammy with sweat and hands shaking with harsh tremors. 

It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. He chanted that sentence to himself in his head, but it wasn't working because while that hadn't happened, that didn't mean it couldn't happen. It could happen. It could happen within a week if Ultron got what he wanted. 

He pressed his hands to his chest where the arc reactor once was, pressing down on the scarred tissue that he only knew was there by memory. 

"Tony?" 

His head snapped up to see Lila Barton standing a couple feet away, holding a bunny stuffed animal in her arms. She was wearing tinkerbell pjs, which he gathered were her favorite outfit from when Clint was trying to get her to sleep. Her head was tilted to the side with curiosity, but the thing that really stood out were the red splotches around her eyes. 

"Lila? What's wrong?" He asked worriedly, instantly on the alert. He got to his feet, still shaky but determined to help the girl. 

She sniffed and held her stuffed animal tighter. "I had a nightmare." 

"Oh, sweetie," Tony said, adopting an even softer tone than before. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it? You don't have to." It was something similar to what Pepper would ask him after a nightmare. He would nearly always say no, but maybe talking would make him feel better. 

Lila shrugged. 

"Alright, you don't have to say anything. I think I know something that will help you. It helps me sometimes." He gently placed his hand on her shoulder and lead her toward the kitchen. She looked at him with big green eyes. 

"You have nightmares?" 

"Yeah," he nodded as he helped her onto a stool at the counter. He turned the lights on dim, not wanting to blind them both, and grabbed the gallon of milk from the fridge. "Everybody has nightmares once in a while." Or every time you sleep, Tony added to himself. 

Lila placed her hands on the counter, shoulders slumping. "My nightmare was from the show Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Cooper watches it a lot and so I wanted to see why he liked it so much. The brain things and the ninjas were really scary... they came into the house and got me." 

Tony's hands moved on their own as he fixed up the treat for the girl. He turned away from the stove. "That must have been a really bad dream, little red, but I assure you that it wasn't real. They wouldn't get through without a fight because your dad, your mom, your brother, and the Avengers would protect you with everything they had."

"Really?" She asked. 

"Really," Tony promised, giving her a sincere smile. He grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured up the hot chocolate from a pot into it. He spotted some marshmallows sitting in a bag on the counter. He unwrapped the tie holding them closed and poured them in. 

He presented the drink to her and watched her study it closely, taking a sniff. "Hot chocolate?" 

"Yep. Just trust me, munchkin," Tony was unsure when he started using nicknames for her or Cooper, but he didn't think he was going to stop. She sipped the drink and he watched a smile spread across her face, a mustache extending with it. 

"How much more is there?" She asked. Tony glanced at the pot. 

"Enough for another full drink. I don't think you need a refill yet, so why do you ask?" He questioned, genuinely confused. 

"For you to drink some, too, silly," she responded. Tony blinked at her. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes," she said, staring him down in a dare to challenge her. Tony immeadiately grabbed a mug and filled it, throwing in marshmallows. He sat down beside her and they sipped their drinks quietly. Five minutes later, she yawned as she placed her now empty mug on the counter and Tony very nearly cooed at how cute she was. 

"Alright, Lila, time for bed." He didn't need to look at a clock to know it was well past two in the morning, maybe three. He helped her down from her seat and was very surprised when she hugged his legs tightly. 

"Thank you, Uncle Tony," she said with a smile before heading upstairs, disappearing from sight a few seconds later. Tony listened until he heard her door shut before returning to the couch to sit. 

Uncle Tony. He could get used to that. 

____

Tony didn't go back to sleep that night, instead opting to clean up a bit. With the chaos of the night - thinking up battle strategies and trying to get the kids settled - there hadn't been much time to clean. He did so as silently as possible: sweeping the floors, wiping down flat surfaces to free them of grime or dust, and cleaning the load of dishes from dinner. 

Most didn't believe that Tony Stark had ever picked up a broom. They were wrong. When living in the Stark family manor, he had his own list of chores given to him by his mother and he got even more practice when cleaning up after his bots. He had people clean his houses when he wasn't there, but otherwise he cleaned. 

By the time the first morning rays of sunlight were peeking in through the windows, the bottom floor was spotless. 

As it was nearly six in the morning and they had such an exhausting past few days, Tony didn't think anyone would be up this early besides himself. Steve was the only person who regularly woke up extremely early for his runs, but a quick check in the guest room proved that the man was still asleep. For once. 

Tony knew he should probably have gone back to sleep. He needed to be ready for battle, but he just couldn't risk someone finding out about his nightmares. There was no telling if Lila saw anything and put everything together.

He also knew that his continued shaking wasn't usual. He had calmed down from his nightmare, but now he was shivering with chills. He wanted to bundle up on the couch and sleep for a while, but the cold and the ever increasing weight on his chest would only remind him of inside those Afghan caves. The only conclusion he had to why he was feeling this way was that he was sick, but he tried to ignore that thought. He couldn't be sick right now. He just couldn't.

Currently, he was fixing a broken window in the kitchen to try and keep his mind off everything. A cough had developed not long before and he tried to stifle it in case he woke someone up. Maybe waking someone would have been a good thing, but he really didn't want to disturb them. He just hoped this cough would leave soon. 

"Tony?" 

It wasn't Lila's voice that startled him this time, but Cooper's. It took him a moment to realize that the sun was higher in the sky than it had been what felt like moments before. How long had he been staring at the corner of the window? He turned and saw the two Barton children looking at him. "Hey kiddos. What are you doing up so early?" He didn't think any child would get up this early willingly, especially after being up so late.

Cooper shrugged, making his way over to the counter. "We always get up at seven or earlier when Dad is home. It's usually when he is awake and practicing with his arrows outside. We usually go out there with him, but he's not up yet." There was a note of confusion in his voice. 

"Your parents were up pretty late last night and had an exhausting day, dealing with a house full of superheroes and whatnot," Tony said. "Us three are the only ones awake that I know of."

"Why are you up so early?" Cooper asked with a raised eyebrow. The question caught Tony off-guard and before he could offer a most likely flimsy excuse, Lila intercepted the conversation. 

"We should do something for Mom, Dad, and the other Avengers. Uncle Tony, can we make breakfast?" She asked excitedly and Tony had to shush her gently. 

"That'd be a good idea, buttercup, but if we really want it to be a surprise, we can't make much noise." The girl nodded and skipped over to the cupboards. Cooper went over to the pantry and opened it. 

"What will we make?" The boy asked, looking over his shoulder at Tony. 

"Pancakes? That's literally the only breakfast dish I know how to make," the genius said. He rifled through the cabinets as quietly as possible before he found four boxes of pancake mix. "The fact that your mom has this many boxes is bizarre, but lucky." He dumped them on the counter. "Get as giant of a bowl as you can, kitchen minions. We have work to do." 

In less than three minutes, the kitchen was in a quiet sort of chaos as the three moved about. Ingredients were chucked into the bowl by Cooper after Lila measured everything out with careful precision, tongue sticking out the side of her mouth in concentration. The sun rose higher as they created stacks of delicious fluffy pancakes. 

Tony high-fived the kids when they were done as they cheered. The dishes were in the sink where Tony planned to wash them soon enough and the table was set. Three stacks of pancakes made up the middle of the table, tall mountains when compared to the multiple bottles of syrup beside them. Orange juice was poured into numerous glasses and Lila had even crated a bouquet of flowers. 

"What is going on?" They all jumped when the voice of the one and only Natasha Romanoff drifted in, still dressed in pajamas. 

"Auntie Nat!" Cooper and Lila said while Tony gave her a wave and a grin, trying to hide the fact that he had nearly jumped out of his skin. The girl took the most deadly assasin in the world by the hand and lead her closer to the table as she rambled excitedly. "Uncle Tony helped me and Cooper make breakfast," she explained. 

The red head's eyes landed on Tony and he resisted the urge to shuffle nervously at her gaze. The tickle in the back of his throat that he'd been doing his best to ignore increased, but he didn't dare cough in front of a spy. She would instantly know something was wrong, as with other times Tony was sick and tried to pass it off as something else. Recently, he'd just lock down the lab and not let anyone in. 

She apparently found whatever she was looking for in his posture as she allowed a small smile to form on her face. He smiled back, tucking his hands in his pockets. An involuntary shiver ran through him and he almost cursed aloud as Natasha's smile turned into a frown. Was that just his eyes or did she look concerned? "Are you alright?" She asked. "You look kind of pale."

"Morning light. The mortal enemy of my gorgeous appearance," he joked. There was the sound of stumbling and they all saw Bruce come down the stairs. He waved tiredly, rubbing at his eyes, but his cheeks turned red when he saw Natasha. She, too, turned her attention from Tony to Bruce. The genius breathed a silent sigh of relief as she went over to him. 

Soon, everyone was coming down the stairs. Some were sleepy and still dressed in their night clothes, others (Cap) were dressed and ready. He got more than a few surprised glances as Lila told the story of them cooking and he revelled in it. He didn't eat much though, not even half of the one dry pancake he'd gotten, his stomach churning unpleasantly and his hands still uncoordinated. He kept drinking sips of juice to try and somehow wash away the constant urge to cough. 

The surprising thing about the meal was that Lila and Cooper insisted on sitting beside him. He listened and talked to both of them as they told different stories about their shenanigans and adventures with their toys and games. He waited until their attention was occupied by others before excusing himself from the table to use the restroom, barely making it there before he stumbled. It was getting harder to breathe and his mind took that moment to remind him how prone to bronchitis and pneumonia he was. 

Whatever he had, it was not just a cold, at least, not anymore.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is not having a good time.

Lila Barton may not be as smart as her brother, but she was far from stupid. Her intelligence didn't lie in math or science, but in observation and intuition. And her intuition was telling her that something was wrong with Uncle Tony. 

As per usual, Lila and her brother helped clean up after breakfast. Captain America helped unti he was called away by Auntie Nat and Dr. Banner to discuss something outside. The two siblings gathered dishes for the sink and put up the syrup, jelly, and what was left of a gallon of orange juice. The other was emptied.

Once they were free of the chores, she followed her brother into the livingroom. He went to go and start uo his game console, but she stopped him. 

"What Lila?" Cooper asked with a twinge of annoyance as she stood there with his game controller. "Do you need me to play fairy princess again?"

"Not right now, but you will later," she responded, placing the controller on the coffee table. "I think something is wrong with Uncle Tony."

Cooper's eyebrows immeadiately came together. "What do you mean? He was fine earlier."

"Auntie Nat told him he looked pale, he excused himself early from breakfast, and he barely even touched his food. He didn't even use syrup, Cooper, the thing that completes pancakes!" 

"Alright, alright, what do you think we should do?" 

"We should tell Mom and Dad. They would know what to do. They know what to do when we're sick and Uncle Tony is obviously sick."

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought adults didn't get sick." 

Lila rolled her eyes with a huff. "Maybe there are adult sicknesses, but there is something wrong with him and that's what matters."

"Fine. Let's tell them." Lila knew he wasn't completely convinced and a small part of her wanted to follow his doubts. She didn't want anything to be wrong with their uncle, she wanted him to be happy and play fairy princess with her because Cooper, despite what she said, would try his best to get out of playing with her. But there was something wrong and she had long since learned not to ignore when something was off to her, no matter how ludacris it might seem. 

_____

Tony knew he didn't have a hangover, but it felt close to it. At least, the vomiting was similar. 

He wasn't aware of the passage of time as he leaned over the toilet bowl, body expelling everything he'd eaten that morning and the night before. He maneuvered himself to slump against the wall, staring at the closed door. The cold tiles around him clashed with his overly heated body, causing him to shake violently every few moments. He had kept the lights off since his eyes had became overly sensitive. Where were his sunglasses when he needed them? 

A tremor wracked his body and he found himself leaned over the toilet bowl again, mind in silent, conflicted turmoil. He wanted help. He wanted to be cared for. He wanted to actually sleep without being haunted by something he did or saw. 

But on the other hand, he didn't want anyone to see him like this. He was a weakling, his mind told him. If he couldn't handle a little bit of sickness and a few nightmares, should he even be Ironman? Steve was already trying to recruit more people, the Falcon being one of them. Eventually, they wouldn't need a dried out, weak Tony Stark who was only part of the team because of his suit and ability to fund whatever they needed. 

He dry heaved once more and a tear made its way down his cheek.

____

"Hey, mom?" Lila asked.

Laura Barton looked up from where she was putting up a plate Clint had just handed her. He dried while she put them up, like every day he was home. Whenever he wasn't, a piece of the line was missing. Her other half was missing. But he always came back to her. 

"Yes sweetie?" She asked as she dried her hands on a dish towel, letting Clint take over with the dishes. Their two kids stood side by side and she placed a hand on her stomach, knowing there would be a third soon. 

"We think something is wrong with Uncle Tony," Lila said confidently. Cooper raised an eyebrow. 

"You think something is wrong with Uncle Tony," he said to his sister. "Not me. I think he just didn't want to eat."

"There's evidence!"

Laura glanced at her husband, who was now at full attention with the idea that one of his teamates might have something wrong with them. He cleared his throat lightly, hands figiting at his sides. "What's the evidence, Lila?" He asked calmly, but Laura could tell he wasn't. 

"Well, he didn't eat but half his pancake. No syrup on it. He was pale and his hands were shaking a little. He excused himself early for the bathroom and still hasn't come back."

That was right. She thought back on it and realized that the symptoms of sickness were there, she had just been so wrapped up in what she needed to do that she hadn't noticed. She switched into Mamma Bear Mode, as her family called it, and headed for the bathroom on the first floor. Clint surpassed her, practically running. She couldn't run after him, but she went as quick as she could. 

"Mom?" Cooper asked, sounding anxious now. "Is there something wrong with Uncle Tony?"

She looked over her shoulder at them. "We're just going to check on him, kids." And when did they start calling him Uncle Tony? If she weren't so worried about said man, she would take the time to coo at it. 

Laura came to the bathroom doorway. The lights were off, but there was enough light for her to clearly see Clint kneeling in front of the famous Tony Stark, who was propped up against the wall beside the toilet. The brunette's eyes were half open and glazed, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and she could smell the telltale stench of throw up. He was definetly sick. How he got sick this fast, she didn't know. She just knew they had to help him. 

Clint put one of Tony's arms over his shoulder, one arm wrapping around his back to keep him steady. The genius was too incoherent to walk, it seemed, as Clint changed positions and just picked him up bridal style. Her husband was murmurring words she couldn't hear and Tony's head turned toward him, his mouth open to respond before his head dropped to rest of his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed. 

"I'll get some blankets," Laura said and went to the linen closet while Clint took Tony upstairs. A few minutes later, she found them in what was Steve's bedroom for the previous night. The genius was lying limp on the bed, already tucked under the duvet. In the brighter light, she could fully see all his symptoms. He was shaking constantly, pale as a sheet, and so obviously exhausted. 

Clint took one of the blankets from the stack in her arms and spread it over him. "Put the others at the end of the bed. I don't want to overheat him." She nodded and did so. 

"Dad? Mom? Is he going to be okay?" Lila asked. She and Cooper were peeking their heads into the room, faces lined with deep worry. 

"Uncle Tony will be just fine, kiddos," Clint said, walking over to them. "I'll tell you both when he wakes up and you can talk to him, ey?" He asked. They nodded hesitantly. "Good. For now, we just need to let him sleep. He's tired." 

"He woke up really strangely last night," Lila said timidly. "He gasped and put his hands up to his chest like this." She demonstrated, placing her hands over the middle of her chest. "Is that how some people wake up?" She asked innocently.

"Why were you up?" Laura asked, trying to mask her ever increasing worry as Clint cursed under his breath. She saw him walk back over to Tony, but kept her focus on their children. 

"I had a nightmare and Uncle Tony helped me. He told me that everyone, even him, has nightmares sometimes," she said. 

"People do have nightmares sometimes," she agreed, looking at Tony and Clint through her peripheral. She knew Clint had nightmares of when he was mind controlled by Loki and she had no doubt that all the other Avengers had nightmares of their own. "How about you two head downstairs? Doing something else will make time go faster until Uncle Tony wakes up." 

The two begrudgingly agreed and left. Laura made her way over to the two men. Clint was looking down at Tony with such an earnest and sad expression that she felt her heart break a little. She took his hand in hers before leaning forward to check Tony's temperature with the back of her other hand. His skin was hot to the touch. 

He had nightmares and by the dark circles under his eyes that she could now so clearly see when he was asleep. Tony Stark was a showman, she knew, and this proved it now more than ever. His excitement and enthusiasm had somehow hid the physical showings of sleep deprivation and she swore to herself to never let that get passed her again. The bags were so black she might have mistaken them for bruises, indicating multiple nights with little to no sleep. 

How often did he have nightmares? He had plenty of fuel for them, by what she knew as a SHIELD agent. He was captured by terrorists and tortured, betrayed by his godfather, went through palladium posioning, took a nuke into a wormhole, his house got blown up... there were so many things he could have nightmares about that it made an icy hand clench around her heart. 

_____

Tony woke up not knowing which way was up. He pried his eyes open wearily, looking around the dark room he was in as he tried to recall what had happened. His head felt like there was cotton stuffed in it and he felt like he was freezing, but also too hot. He pulled himself up using his elbows, brain finally coherent enough to realize that he was in a bed that he didn't recognize. 

For a moment, he panicked, but then he heard voices coming from far away. He listened, picking out the voices of Clint and his family. What had happened after sitting down for breakfast?

Slowly, his memories came back. He had excused himself from breakfast since his stomach was doing somersaults like it was in the circus, and ended up throwing up in the toilet with the lights off. He had a very, very hazy recollection of other people being there, but only an idea of how he got to the bed. His last hazy memory was him being surrounded by voices, one of then being Clint's reassuring and soft voice.

He remembered the repeated murmur: "Hang on, Tones, I got ya. We got you." 

He felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment at the thought of having been found in that way and he knew he had to do something. Curtains covered the windows so he knew not what time it was, but the aroma of chicken and steamed veggies floated in through the open door. Laura must have gotten more of the meat at some point.

Tony pushed the covers away from his body and slung his legs over the side of the bed. He shivered as his bare feet made contact with the cold hardwood floor. A small voice in his head pleaded with him to stay under the blankets where it was warm and let someone help, but it was drowned out by Tony's need to prove he wasn't weak and needed no one. Besides Pepper. His girlfriend and CEO had kept his life together for years. 

He hauled himself up onto his feet and away from the soft material of the mattress. His body swayed, but he forced himself toward the door. Uncoordinated, he stumbled into the door frame and winced at both the sudden hit and the noise it created. There was no change in conversation below, though. 

Creeping his way down the stairs, he glanced in the kitchen to see Laura cooking with Cooper sitting on a stool at the counter, some grocery bags on the table. The front screen door shut with a rattling noise and he looked to see Clint and Lila headed out with quivers slung over their backs, the girl's a junior version of her father's. Natasha and Bruce were occupied by the TV and from what he could see, the most dangerous assassin in America, possibly the entire world, was leaning against Bruce with her legs thrown over his. 

Tony snuck out the back door as quickly and quietly as possible. He grabbed his shoes on the way out and slipped them on, not caring as the expensive material rubbed against the skin of his feet. Strength wavering, he stumbled out the back door and slowly closed it. His plan was to get to the barn and hide out there until he was inevitably found, but within seconds there was a hitch in his plan. That seemed to happen so much nowadays. 

"Tony!" Steve's voice called from nearby. Tony had to wince before he turned around, blinding paparazzi grin in place. He hoped Steve's call hadn't been loud enough for Clint to hear. 

"Yeah, cappy?" He asked, walking over with as much swagger he could muster in his tired and sickly state. He cleared his throat, trying to remove the tickle that meant coughing. There was nothing he could do about his shivers. Even in the warm summer evening air, he shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself. Steve raised an eyebrow but made no comment. It looked like he wanted to, but held his tongue. Tony was thankful for that. 

"Help me with this," the captain said instead, guesturing to the small logs strewn about everywhere. The genius had to fight back a groan when Steve gestured to a second axe, one already in his hand. 

"I thought we did this yesterday," he grumbled as he picked up the tool. It felt three times heavier than it was before and he struggled to lift it for a few moments. He grit his teeth and moved over to a second stump where a piece of log was placed. 

"We did the ones in the front, not the back," the blonde supplied as he brought down his axe with a mighty chop. "Come on, Tony. I want to get this done before dinner."

His arms felt like jell-o, but the brunette gathered every little bit of strength he could and swung down on the wood. He cut it a fifth of the way down. Eyeing the block of tree with disdain, he swung again and managed to cut off the end in a jagged motion. He panted, trying to draw air into his overworked lungs as his hands shook with a new level of ferocity. Sweat dripped down his temples and forehead. 

He really shouldn't be doing this, but backing out in front of his former idol was worse. He couldn't be seen weak by the person his dad had compared him to for years. 

Steve had already gotten through eight logs in the time it took for Tony to get another one onto his stump. His arms and legs ached from the strain on his tired body, his mouth dried up, and the world started tilting as he watched the other man's axe swing down again and again. They were cut clean in half every time. 

Finally, the super soilder paused in his dizzying show of strength. "Come on, Tony," he said, sounding exasperated and frustrated. "We need to help Laura and Clint. After all they've done for us, it's the least we can do. By what I've been told, you've been upstairs asleep all day. I'm glad you got more sleep because I know you didn't get much last night, but don't tell me you're tired already." 

Tony flinched at the tone, but Steve didn't seem to notice as he turned back to his logs with a sour expression. So Clint hadn't told him that Tony was ailed with sickness, which was both a con and pro to him. Con since he was now being forced to push his body over a mental cliff. Pro because, well, Steve wouldn't know he had been knocked out for most the daylight hours from a simple cold that should barely cause him to falter.

He tightened his grip on the axe with his shaky hands and raised it as much as he could, which only reached a little passed his waist. He let the blade fall, but his vision was tilted. He completely missed and the failure made him want to curl up with shame. He couldn't even hit a log right. 

Steve furthered that shame. "Stop being petty, Stark." He flinched again. "Get to work. I've seen you lift more in the lab." 

Tony wanted to shout that his body wasn't complying and that he felt like crap, but all that came out was a quiet, "Okay, Steve." 

Somehow, that was the thing that got his teammate's attention. He felt baby blue eyes scan him as he tried to lift the axe from the ground again, but was only able to raise it a few inches before dropping it. He clenched his fists to try and stop the shaking, but that only made it worse. 

"Tony? Are you okay?" He asked, voice far more gentle than it had been earlier, worry edged in his tone. Tony nodded, but his heart wasn't in it. His whole body was shaking and everything threatened to tilt on its side. His clothes were too thick and irritating. It was far too cold outside. 

That was when Clint rounded the corner of the house, eyes on a tree close to the building. It was tilted, or maybe that was just Tony. Lila wasn't in sight, so he figured that she had either gone back inside or was still shooting arrows. 

"Hey, Steve? Could you help me chop down- Tony! What are you doing up?!" The archer broke into a sprint just as the genius's knees buckled beneath him. He felt himself be caught by muscled arms before completely blacking out. 

[C]______

Once again, Tony woke up in a bed without knowing how long he'd been there. But this time, he knew exactly what happened. "Crap," he forced out through his hoarse throat despite nobody being there to see him. "I blacked out in front of Cap."

It turned out that he was not as alone as he thought in the dark room.

"You got that right. Scared the heck out of everyone, too. Including me."

He turned his head quickly to see his archer friend perched on the bedside table. He was dressed in sweats that he hadn't been wearing before, bare toes curled around the edge of the stand for purchase. He honestly looked a creepy kind of cool in the darkness. He stared down at him, face twisted in concern and eyes shining with worry. 

"What're you doing here?" He asked, trying to clear his sore throat. He pulled the blankets closer to his body, trying to gather heat from them and not caring how he looked. "I was alone last time."

"That's exactly why I'm here. I'm not making the same mistake as last time and leaving you unattended for even a few minutes." He hopped onto the ground and stood, somehow not knocking the entire table over, but that was Clint for you. Thankfully, he hadn't toppled the glass of water there. 

"Can I...?" He asked before he could stop himself, waving a hand toward the glass. 

"Let's get you propped up first," Clint said. Tony went to raise himself by his elbows, but the man placed a hand on his chest to stop him. Once upon a time, he would have flinched at the contact there. He didn't. He trusted Clint with his life and knew that as one of his best friends, he would never intentionally hurt him. 

He was gently maneuvered by calloused hands to sit up against multiple pillows. The genius' hands moved to grab the glass Clint soon held, but the archer placed the straw in Tony's mouth. He drank until the cup was gone and the ice clinked on the bottom. 

"Why are you doing this?" Tony asked as he was once again moved to lay down. He coughed into his elbow a few times, turning away to avoid getting germs on his friend. "And what do I have? I could swear it wasn't this bad yesterday."

"Bruce said that you most likely had a cold, but due to your decreased lung capacity it turned into bronchitis. You possibly have a hint of a bug, if throwing up indicates anything." Clint rattled off as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "I want to talk to you."

"How long have I been out?" Tony asked instead. Whatever 'talk' Clint was referring too with such a heavy tone, he didn't want to do it. 

"Seven hours and you bet someone was there all the time. I think Cap may have cried," he deadpanned. "Now stop dodging."

"Dodging what? I just want to know how long I've been laid up in bed," Tony sniffed. He crosses his arms, trying to look as dignified at possible. By the look he got, he failed. 

"The talk."

"We're talking now." 

"That's not what I- see, that's what you do. You deflect." 

He bit his lip and ran a hand through his damp hair. "I'm hungry," he lied. "Can we get something to eat?" 

"Tony." 

Said man paused and really took a look at his friend. His face was haggard and his eyes were full of worry as they studied him. He kept shifting around like he was nervous and he kept placing his bottom lip between his teeth. Tony didn't think he was faking or pulling some kind of spy trick on him. This was just too genuine to be faked. 

"What?" He finally conceded, sighing. "What do you want to talk about?"

Clint took a breath through his nose. "I want to talk about Ultron."

Tony really hadn't been expecting that. Ultron. Ultron. Clint wanted to talk about his worst creation. He felt like he had just been upended from the world and he gripped the blankets between shaky fingers. "Why?" He croaked out, suddenly feeling incredibly small. 

"Tony..." Clint reached out and took his hands, uncurling them from around the blankets and placing them in his own warm hands. That warmth grounded Tony back to the present. "Are you taking all the blame?"

That was another thing Tony didn't expect. "Of course I am," he spat, jerking his hands back and to the safety of his chest. 

"Do-n't," his voice cracked in the middle and the anger drained out of Tony, replaced with a thick layer of confusion. "Don't blame yourself. Tones, I know you. You're one of my best friends and the only person who shares my humor." A wry little smile spread across Clint's lips before it disappeared. "I also know how you work. You and Bruce disappeared down there for ages, and neither of you are stupid enough to do anything rash. Especially you." He paused. 

"Go on," Tony mustered, slowly placing his hands back down on the blankets. Clint took them again. It wasn't their usual friendly pats on the shoulder or a hair ruffling. This was something more personal. Not for the first time, Tony thought of Clint as his brother. 

He was too scared to say it out loud to him. Only in the confines of his penthouse with Jarvis and Pepper did he share that he felt like the Avengers were more a piece of his family than just teamates or friends. 

"You're calculated with your work, on and off the battle field. There was no way for you to know that Ultron would turn into who he became. There was no reason to think that a piece of code you hadn't even finished had become something like this."

Tony swallowed. "Ultron was far from done. He was a piece of code that wasn't even active. When we left, I told Jarvis to monitor him. He came to life when he wasn't supposed to. He saw things he wasn't ready for. Jarvis tried to talk to him, but Ultron fought back. He nearly destroyed him. I don't know what happened..."

Clint squeezed his hands comfortingly, then his face lit up like he had an idea. "You two were experimenting with the scepter, right? Could that have done something?"

"I..." the genius blinked, data running over and over in his head of what he knew. "It may have... oh gosh, it could have." The scepter was marvel of magic and science. It was so powerful, so intricate... he started shaking, remembering everything it was capable of in the wrong hands. It was dangerous in the hands of an enemy, and on its own. 

Clint got up, letting go of their joined hands and Tony felt a spike of fear. He didn't want him to leave. But then he was sitting down beside him and gathering him into a hug. A hug. It felt like he hadn't had one in so long... he wrapped his arms around his friend and buried his head into his shoulder. A hand settled in his hair and started moving through his tangled locks. Slowly, his shaking dyed down to a small, occasional tremble. 

"I have another question, if you're okay with it," Clint said quietly, not moving from the hug. Tony pulled back a little so he could look up at him. 

"What is it?" He sniffed again. His eyes stung with tears threatening to fall, but he hoped the air would dry them. 

"What..." he hesitated. "Tony, you've never shown any interest in building another AI, at least, not to me. You also never showed interest in building one with such a goal of protecting the entire globe. What brought it on?" 

Tony couldn't help it. The tears fell and he quickly hid his head away in Clint's shirt as he tried to suppress his sobs. The memory flashed to the forefront of his mind, replying that horrific scene. He had been trying to suppress that vision for so long...

Clint's arms tightened around him and he began to rock back and forth. Tony had seen him do it to Lila when trying to get her to sleep and he found the motion strangely calming. He couldn't find it in him to be embarrassed as he whimpered with fear, clinging to Clint like his lifeline. "Shh...shh... I'm sorry, Tony. I'm sorry." 

He wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, but Tony was grateful for it either way. He didn't get apologies much, especially when involved in the buisness world. People always tried to turn their mistakes onto him or insist he did it even with substantial evidence proving then wrong. This, this was nice. 

Eventually, he was able to pull himself together enough to talk. He turned his head a little so the cotton of Clint's shirt wouldn't muffle him, and spoke. "Back at the base..."

"You don't have to answer," he said quietly. "Not if it's too painful." 

"I want to. I want you to know. I want the team to know," he said and cleared his throat again, trying to get rid of the lump there. He continued: "Back at the base, I had just come across the scepter. I had no suit, no protection. I knew the Maximoffs were around, but I didn't see her. I didn't..."

Clint held him even tighter, almost too tightly for Tony to breathe. But he could, so he kept talking. It's what he did best. 

"I was heading toward it, wondering how to grab it safely, when things started changing. An alien carcass that had hung above suddenly came to life and when I turned around... there was the portal. There we death, destruction. I was the last one standing. You all... you all were dead... except for Steve." 

His throat closed up and more tears trailed down his red cheeks. Clint moved his hand and wiped them away, the other hand still brushing through his curls. Minutes past in silence as Tony both dealt with his emotions and revelled in the feeling of safety. No one could get him here. There were no Chitauri or alien scepters. Ultron was still out there, surely plotting and planning, but right now he felt so far away. 

"He told me, "you could have saved us," and then he..." he couldn't bring himself to say it. "Then it was gone and the only idea I had was to build Ultron. I had scrapped him before because he was just too dangerous, but with that vision in my head it felt like the only thing I could do to protect all of you..." Tony finished. He turned his head back to where it had been.

"Tony, I promise you that this vision will not happen. She messed with your head and played on your fears; she can't tell the future. It didn't happen and it won't happen," Clint said determinedly. "Take this from someone who's had their head messed with before: I know it feels like you have nowhere to turn, but you have people in your corner. Everyone in this house is your friend and we aren't leaving any time soon, no matter what happens. We'll get through this together."

Tony mulled over that. The team, Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy. They hadn't left him behind when Ultron was built. They may be scattered around, but they were still a united front. He'd even gained some new friends in Laura, Cooper, and Lila. He was already wrapped around those kids' fingers. "Thanks, Clint," He mumbled, a small smile on his face.

"Anytime, Tones."

He felt a little lighter. Actually, a lot lighter. His thoughts were no longer swirling in his head, full of fear and confliction. His anxiety had lessened. A huge weight had rolled off his shoulders when telling Clint and now he allowed himself to feel tired, his reassurance playing over and over in his mind. Appa- rently, passing out twice wasn't enough to satisfy his body. He fell limp, letting Clint take the weight. His friend chuckled a little. "Someone's sleepy..." he joked playfully. 

"Shove off," he mumbled even as he buried himself deeper into his shirt, fingers curled around the fabric. Both of them knew of the wet tear stain there, but neither said anything about it. His eyes drifted closed and he felt himself being lowered back onto the bed from his sitting position. He tightened his hands onto the shirt, not wanting his friend, his brother, to leave right now. 

He didn't. Instead, he continued to stroke his hand through Tony's curls as the genius drifted off. He was at complete peace for the first time in days. 

No nightmares came out to play as he slept.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little chapter on Nat and Bruce. Also featuring an archer chasing a genius.

Natasha Romanoff prided herself in being a spy. She also took pride in being able to read the room and the people in it. 

Tony Stark getting sick right up under her nose was the only tarnish to that reputation, and she found herself far more worried about her teamate than a mark on her record. She was still awake at one in the morning, pacing back and forth in the guest room she and Bruce shared. Her kind-of boyfriend was asleep on the king sized bed, blankets up to his nose in a way she found completely adorable. 

Not that she would admit to that. 

Her mind turned back to the situation at hand. She remembered when Clint came running in while she and Bruce were watching TV on the couch. He held the door open as Steve came in, holding a limp Tony in his arms. She'll never forget the terror she felt when she saw the genius's pale face, sweaty hair, and chest heaving as he tried to breathe. She'll never forget the twin expressions of fear on Steve and Clint's faces. 

Bruce had immeadiately jumped into action, barking orders for what he needed and to get Tony on the couch so he could look hom over. Natasha had stood, too, but for the first time in a long, long time she found herself frozen. Frozen to the spot. It wasn't until Clint touched her shoulder was she able to shake herself put of it and run to grab the medical kit. Laura had directed her to it while trying to explain what was going on to Cooper and Lila. 

She had watched as the doctor looked Tony over. No matter what he did, Tony did not move. Not even a flutter of his eyes or a twitch of his fingers. 

Natasha had never known him to be so still. 

Bruce declared him to have bronchitis after a series of tests. Natasha wasn't sure how he figured it out considering the limited amount of medical tools, but she didn't doubt him. Steve then moved Tony up to the guest bedroom, Bruce following behind him, while she and Clint tried to calm the kids. Lila was crying hysterically for her Uncle Tony and Cooper was frozen, similar to the way she had been before. 

It was now a few hours later and she was mad at herself. She had seen him this morning. She had noticed how shaky and pale he was, yet she let him brush off her questions. She let him joke his way out of it and took him for face value. What a mistake she had made. Tony always tried to hide when he was sick and everytime she knew. It didn't matter if he was locked in his lab, she still knew. 

She didn't know this time and it was a punch to the gut. The Avengers were her team and the closest thing she had to a family. Pieces of her heart warmed whenever she found it in her trust them a little more. Tony had been the first to gain her trust besides Clint. Despite the fact she stabbed him in the neck, they had become fast friends with their late night chats. Now he was hurting, sick, and a hand was squeezing her heart as she worried and kicked herself. 

"Nat?" Bruce asked, sitting up. She paid him barely any mind, continuing her frantic pacing. She heard rustling, but didn't turn her eyes toward him until his hand was on her arm. She didn't tense. She didn't slap him. He didn't lose a finger because the knife in her pocket was always sharp enough to do that. She did none of those things. No, she leaned forward and hugged him. 

He paused completely. Even his breathing stopped. Natasha thought she messed up everything they had worked toward and began to pull away, only for his arms to lock her around her back, pulling her closer until she could bury her face in his neck. "I didn't know," she whispered. "I'm always supposed to know."

"It's okay not to know something," he said in the same quiet volume, voice gentle. "Sometimes we have to deal with what happens the best we can. We can never predict the future completely. We have to learn from the past and work with it in the present to prepare for the future. Now we know the signs of when Tony's sick and we can try to prevent it from happening again."

She slowly nodded. "I'm not going to let him brush it off again. I shouldn't have done that. I just... I really wanted to think he was fine." She sighed and moved away. He let her, his arms falling away to release her. Natasha picked up her pajamas, having not changed into them yet. She hadn't been able to remain still enough to, dwelling in her regret and anger at herself. She heard Bruce's footsteps heading back toward the bed and she dropped the clothes. 

She acted on her feelings that she had kept hidden in fear of being rejected. Feelings that weren't faked for an infiltrating or assassination. They were hers and had been steadily growing for weeks, maybe months. She walked up to Bruce determinedly and watched him stop when he saw her. He stood a foot from the bed, head tilted to the side cutely. 

"Natasha?" He asked. If he planned to ask anything more, he didn't, because she had kissed him. Without hesitation, he kissed back. The kiss wasn't long, but when they pulled away from each other, she saw so much love in his eyes and she knew hers reflected it.

A piece of her cold heart became warm again. 

______

While Natasha got dressed in the bathroom, Bruce laid on the bed, lost in thought. He felt light as a feather after she had kissed him. It had been sudden, but not unwanted. He hoped not to destroy this relationship, and so far it was going pretty good. She looked happy and he was, too. 

He felt guilty about that. Right now, his friend was only one room away, being watched by Clint since Bruce's watch had ended. Tony had improved a little last he saw him, maybe was even close to waking up. 

Bruce knew more than anyone on the team how fast Tony could get sick. His lungs couldn't expand enough for him to get passed a common cold most of the time. It usually turned into bronchitis or pneumonia in what felt like a blink of an eye. He could have a small sniff in the morning, but a mere few hours later Bruce would be basically carrying him to the medical floor in the tower, the other genius near dilerious with fever. 

He remembered the first time he had seen Tony sick. It was within the first month of him living in the tower, before the rest of the Avengers came to live with them. Tony had been working in the lab all night, only shifting his focus from the thing he was creating when Bruce was about to hold a cup of coffee under his nose. He had dark bags under his eyes, but they weren't as deep as they were today, and had started sniffing a few minutes later. 

Bruce passed him a tissue box from the drawer, already transfixed on what he was studying and passing off the sniffs to allergy season. Tony had started coughing an hour later, but they weren't dangerous sounding coughs. Again, he chalked it up to allergy season. 

It was two hours passed noon when Bruce had finally finished his project. He'd stretched and waved for Jarvis to turn off the melodic tunes that flooded the lab (it had been Bruce's turn to pick music). The AI had been unusually quiet the entire time. He suggested to Tony that they head up and get lunch, knowing that if he didn't then his friend would surely stay down in the workshop for hours more. 

He hadn't gotten a reply and had turned to see Tony slumped in his chair, eyes closed with his face pale and glistening with sweat. He remembered how his heart had jumped to his throat and the Hulk roared in the back of his mind, but not out of anger. The Hulk was concerned. Bruce hadn't had time to dwell on this realization before he was calling the medics, phone in one hand and his other pressing again't Tony's neck, two fingers on his slightly slow pulse. 

Tony had silenced Jarvis over an hour before Bruce had came into the lab, he learned later from the un-muted AI as he sat by his friend's bed so many hours later. The danger had passed long ago, but he still held his fingers over the pulse point on the man's wrist. When he woke, Bruce was aware that he had fussed over him far more than neccessary, much to Tony's hoarse protests. 

He had unpacked his travel back that night and never packed it again. 

"What are you thinking?" Natasha asked softly. He hadn't known she was there, standing at the end of the bed as she tied her hair up into a ponytail. That was something he hadn't know about her before: she tied her hair up before she went to sleep. He hadn't jumped at the sound of her voice though, just turned his head to face her. 

"I'm always thinking," he muttered. 

"You sound like Tony," she tried to joke. He offered her a smile, then sighed. 

"I'm just remembering the first time I witnessed Tony sick. It hits fast a hard with him. The reactor is gone, but even the best doctors in the world can't completely heal the damage done to his lungs. It can't reverse all the scar tissue. They had to rebuild most of his sternum and even with extremis it was risky."

"I thought extremis would have fixed everything," she responded while sitting down on the bed. 

"One drop. They only used one drop. It was too unstable otherwise. It gave them enough time to get the shrapnel out and rebuild what they could," he said, shifting to stare up at the ceiling as she climbed into the bed. He sucked in a small, suprised breath when she felt her arm lay across his stomach, her face pressed into his chest and her stomach against his side. 

She looked up at him with those brilliant green eyes and for the first time he saw vulnerability there. "Too much?" She whispered. They had slept next to each other last night, but never touched. This was new and it felt... good. 

"No," he murmured and wrapped his arms around her, moving a little ro make her more comfortable. They stayed silent for a few minutes, just breathing together. As one. Bruce broke the silence with the question that had been plaguing his mind. "Is it bad to be so happy when our friend is sick in the other room?"

He was aware that he just admitted, if not directly, that he was very happy with what was going on and he knew that she had noticed, too. 

"No, I don't think it is," she replied after a moment. "Tony would want us to figure out our relationship. Don't tell me you don't see the looks he throws. I can practically hear him thinking that we need to," she paused and changed her voice a bit, "'get together already because the tension is so thick that it could be stabbed.'"

He laughed outright, if quietly, at the so obvious Tony impression. "Yeah, that's him alright. Imagine what he will say when he finds out that we're in a relationship?" He stopped and backtracked. "We are in a relationship, right?" 

She smiled at him, one of those closed lips smiles she did when she was sincere or amused. "Yes. Yes we are. And I imagine he would say-"

"-It's about time." 

Their heads swiveled to see Tony standing in the doorway, leaning up against the threshold of their open door tiredly. He was still pale, but some color had returned to his cheeks and he wasn't sweating as far as he could tell, nor as shaky as he had been. Bruce went to move away from Natasha, but she resolutely stayed where she was, clinging to him like a koala. He raised an eyebrow at his science bro, who only grinned back. 

"Glad to see you up and about, Tony," Natasha said. "But what is Clint going to say about it when he finds out you're out of bed?" 

"He won't know," the genius responded, but he suddenly looked a little nervous. 

"Are you sure about that?" She asked. Bruce watched their interaction, amused. 

"Yeah...."

"ANTHONY EDWARD STARK!" 

"...no."

The couple got a front row seat to watch as the famous Ironman was chased down by an archer. The sick man stood no chance as he was hauled over Clint's shoulder and carried back to bed, his protests falling on deaf ears. Natasha thought it was a miracle that her niece and nephew weren't awake, but they were probably dead tired considering they hadn't slept that much the night before. They were just like their father when he wasn't on a mission: very hard to wake up. 

"Tony is as stubborn as a mule, but no one can stand up to Clint when he's in father bear mode," his girlfriend (his girlfriend!) deadpanned. He chuckled and then they were both laughing. She rested her head back on his chest and he reached out to turn off the light. He wrapped his arms around her again and closed his eyes, feeling content. The team was safe (for now), Natasha was lying beside him, and his idiot genius friend would be okay.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets better before it gets worse.

"Clint, you are not going to keep me in this bed. I need to move around!" Laura heard Tony whine from the guest bedroom as she moved through the hallway. She was at the door when she heard Clint's voice respond. 

"I literally went to go find more blankets and make soup for you because you said you were hungry, and then I find you wandering around. You bet I'm not letting you leave my sight again." She peeked into the room and saw that their resident engineering genius was wrapped in his blankets like a burrito while her husband was rubbing his temples. 

"Clint, how about you go finish making the soup and I'll watch him for a while. I'll be your eyes for a while," she offered, stepping inside. Clint looked conflicted, mouth open to argue before his shoulders slumped. He sighed. 

"Yeah, I don't want it to burn," he started to leave the room, but turned to Tony when he was in the doorway. He pointed at his eyes, then at Tony. "I have my eyes on you," he said before going to check on the soup. 

Laura watched as Tony slumped, all the fight seeming to drain out of him for a second. With the lamplight, she could tell that he still had a fever, if not a high one. Being a former SHIELD agent, she knew some things about reading people, she just wasn't very good at it sometimes. She was more into the computer and strategic parts of SHIELD. 

"How are you really feeling, Tony?" She asked as she sat on the edge of the bed. She placed her hand on his forehead and he stiffened, brown eyes so wide with surprise that she thought they might pop out of his head. 

His eyes flickered away from her and she could see emotions stirring there, ones he was visibly trying to fight back. He let out a deep sigh. "Tired, mostly. Kinda cold, but I'm sure I'll be hot again soon." 

"Are you actually hungry?"

"Not really... but I figured it would make Clint happy if I ate something," he shrugged, closing his eyes. It was then that she realized that Tony was showing her a lot of trust in letting her watch over him despite the fact that they hadn't known each other for long. She knew that she wouldn't abuse this trust, even if he tried to push her away. If he was Uncle Tony to the kids and brother to Clint, then technically she would be his sister. 

Laura hummed and removed her hand, but placed it back when his head leaned forward a little, as if following it. "Try a little, but if it's too much all you have to do is say something." 

He nodded. 

Clint came back a few minutes later and Tony resumed his upbeat act, whining about unable to move from his blanket confines and protesting to being fed by him. ("You're hands aren't accessible right now." "Because you made them that way, birdbrain!") 

Laura left for a few minutes to grab another blanket, but by the time she returned Tony was kicking away the blankets vehemently, sweat plastered to his forehead. She placed the extra blanket at the end of the bed and she thought she saw a guilty look on his face before he wiped it away. 

That man blamed himself far too much. 

Tony got through half the bowl of chicken noodle soup before he could take no more and hid under the blankets, shivering again. He had started to cough more, his body trying to rid itself of the excess mucus. Clint casted a worried look to her over his shoulder and she agreed with him, if not verbally. The soup was put away and by the time the door to Tony's room was shut, he was fast asleep and snoring lightly, breath whistling in his lungs. 

"His fever is going back up," Clint said once they were nearing the stairway. They had to turn off all the lights before they could go to sleep. 

"It's going to fluctuate, Clint. We'll keep an ear on him."

"He doesn't want anyone in his room right now."

"I said ear, not eye." At Clint's confused look, she elaborated. "Baby monitors exist, love. I put one in his room."

"Smart," he complimented. "But Tony is going to be so mad when he finds out."

"Who says he will?" She asked with a smile. He laughed. 

__________

They started to turn off the lights and Clint went to cut off the one that was on the back porch when he looked through the window and saw Steve sitting on the swing, looking out toward the forest. He was obviously deep in thought, jaw set and posture rigid. Clint felt a sliver of anger move through him. Steve had pushed Tony to work despite the obvious signs of sickness and ended up causing him to pass out. The story had come out of Roger's mouth soon after Tony was in bed, and then the soldier had hightailed it out of the room. 

He moved where he could see the captain's face and he saw... tears. Regret. Sorrow. Clint sighed, knowing he had to talk to him. He was never really good at this emotional stuff, but he seemed to be having a lot of conversations around it lately. He pushed the door open and stepped out into the cool air. 

Steve immeadiately tensed like he was ready for a fight. Clint held his hands up in surrender before cap even saw him. "Stand down, cappy. I just want to talk." He pulled up one of the white rocking chairs and sat down. The blonde didn't look at him for a few moments, but as soon as he did, Clint started talking. 

"You shouldn't have treated or spoke to Tony like that, Steve. You know he would do anything to repay somebody."

Steve sighed and pressed his head into his hands. "I know, Clint, I know. We're all high strung, but I shouldn't have taken out my frustration on Tony like that."

"And what are you going to do to make up for it?" Clint asked, speaking more softly this time. He could practically taste the sadness in Steve's voice and knew the man was beating himself up about it more about it than Clint could do with a thorough chewing out. 

"I'm going to apologize." 

"Good," Clint said and stood. He wasn't completely done with the captain, but he could leave him for tonight. He needed to think up his greatest prank he could and pull it after all this was over. He paused at the door, watching as Laura cleaned up the counters. "I think there's something you should know, though." 

He didn't need a confirmation to know the super soldier was listening. Clint took a breath before speaking. "There's more to the creation of Ultron than what meets the eye." The archer walked inside without another word. Shortly after, he was following his wife upstairs to get some much needed rest. 

__________

Tony woke up not knowing what had disturbed him from his slumber. He kept his eyes closed, taking an inventory of his body. His aches had gone down and it no longer felt like an anvil was sitting on his chest. He felt more rested than he had in weeks, but still felt tired all the same.

A headache was developing at his temples, but it was more annoying than painful. Whatever bug he had that was making him throw up seemed to be taking a break and he actually felt a little hungry. Not that he'd go down to the kitchen in the middle of the night, it would be too much of a risk to wake someone up. 

He coughed a bit, trying to rid himself of the mucus that wasn't supposed to be there. Stupid bronchitis. At least it wasn't pneumonia this time, or a hospitalization. He hated hospitals. 

Tony perked up a little when he heard two sets of light footsteps, but kept his eyes closed. They were getting a little louder, closer... his door opened and he opened his eyes a little, looking through his lashes to see the short, shadowy forms at his door. 

"I think he's asleep, Lils," he heard Cooper whisper. 

"I still want to see him," she whispered back. "We haven't been allowed in here since Dad brought him up here. I just want to make sure he's okay."

Tony decided to interrupt, opening his eyes. "'He' is perfectly fine, my little minions." He shifted to sit up against the pillows, watching them. "What time is it? You two need to go back to bed," he said sternly through a slightly nasally voice. 

"The sky is awake, so I'm awake," Lila said. Tony was proud of himself for knowing the phrase was from Frozen. He watched some kids movies because he hadn't been able to in his childhood, sue him. 

"We're not going to play," he deadpanned, eliciting a giggle from both kids. "Growing children need their sleep so they can reek havoc the next day." 

"Well then we'll just sleep here with you," Cooper said, which honestly surprised Tony. The two moved toward his bed and were suddenly on either side of him, under the covers and snuggled into his sides. 

"You two could get sick," he grumbled and tried to nudge them away to at least put a little more distance between them and his sick self, but they wouldn't budge, only coming closer. He conceded, letting his arms wrap around his niece and nephew absentmindedly. 

"We love you Uncle Tony," they chorused and he felt tears sting the corners of his vision. He smiled at both of them and they smiled back. 

"I love you both, kiddos," he whispered as their eyes closed, breaths evening out in sleep. "I would never let anything hurt you," Tony promised before he himself fell asleep to the sound of their breathing. 

_________

Clint shook his head in amusement when he found his kids. They had escaped from their beds at some point and he had been looking all over the house for them, even searched the closets to see if they were pulling a trick. He almost slapped himself for not thinking of Tony's room. He hadn't wanted to disturb the genius, but then again Tony may have been awake already. 

He indeed was and was glaring a Clint. The look had no heat however, and Clint nearly laughed aloud at the way Tony's arms had been pinned down by his kid's little heads and he was unable to move without disturbing one of them. They had both started hugging him at some point in the night, the little cuddle bugs they were. Instead, Clint chuckled and called Natasha's name quietly as she was nearby. 

She came over with a raised eyebrow, but then smiled when she saw the situation Tony was in. The man currently trapped by two children glared at her, too, which only widened Natasha's smile. "I see you have gotten yourself into a cuddly situation, Tony," she whispered. 

He stuck his tongue out at her. "You both are just jealous," he whispered back. 

The two superspys decided to give the billionaire back his movement and removed the kids as gently as possible because even in sleep they clung to their Uncle Tony. Natasha got Lila and Clint got Cooper. Tony sat up and rolled his shoulders, only to have to cover his mouth as a coughing fit erupted. Clint winced at the sound. The genius waved off Natasha's hand, insisting that he was fine between coughing spurts. 

She looked dubious, but it was clear Tony did not want to talk about how he felt at the moment so she let it slide. 

"Laura is making breakfast if you want some, Tony," Clint offered as he shifted Cooper more comfortably in his arms. The boy's hair tickled his neck as he nuzzled closer. 

"Maybe," he said with a shrug, his coughing fit finally subsiding. "Hey Nat," he looked at her with a small smirk. "is it fun being one of the lovebirds? I hope you know that we are all going to be celebrating this joyous-" Tony was cut off when Natasha lightly slapped him on the back of the head. He chuckled as he pushed the blankets away from himself, only to send himself into another bout of coughs. Clint freed one of his arms from holding his son to grab the half full glass of water from the nightstand. 

Tony drank it gratefully, once again waving off any hands that tried to help him. It was far different than their interaction a few hours ago and it was a bit eery. He didn't realize how many masks Tony actually had until they were stripped away. Finally, Natasha was able to press her hand to the genius's forehead. He pulled back, nearly spilling his water in the process. 

"No fever," she confirmed. "Just a really bad cough."

"Jee, I didn't notice," Tony rolled his eyes, then winced.

"Headache?" Clint asked, trying to mask his concern. His friend wasn't in the same state he was only hours ago, but he wasn't completely better either. To think they would have to go into battle very soon. Enemies never stopped when a hero got sick, and they couldn't just bench him due to the need for firepower in this battle. 

"A little. It'll pass," he said as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "What time is it?"

"Almost eight," Natasha said while brushing a hand through Lila's hair. "These two will be waking up soon. We better get them to bed." She turned to the door. "Change your clothes, Tony. Day old sweats don't look good on you." Clint followed her out, smiling at Tony muttered comeback: "I look good in everything." 

A few minutes later, the two children in the house were up and running around like they ate a giant bag of chocolate and cotton candy. He should know, it had happened once. Tony was tackled into a hug by both when he came downstairs, slower than usual but dressed in looser fitting jeans and a long sleeve, AC/DC shirt. 

Tony eyed the coffee in Clint's hands, then their eyes locked. The engineer looked at him pleadingly and the dirty blonde could just barely hold back a smile as he shook his head, successfully communicating 'no, you can not have coffee.' The other man scowled, but then was pulled toward the couch to sit as Bruce fussed over him.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IT GOT WORSE.

"I'm fine, Bruce!" Steve listened as Tony complained about being checked over, watching from the side. After his talk with Clint last night, he knew he needed to apologize. He had known he needed to apologize since Tony collapsed right in front of him. He just didn't know how to approach the man. 

Tony was his second in command, even if that wasn't official. He always said he wasn't a good team player, but seeing him on the field told a completely different story. Even before they had bonded, Tony worked with the team well. The teamwork had only increased since Clint pulled the first prank and started a playful war between Avengers.

Even if he didn't know it himself, Tony was the glue between Avengers. He mediated arguments with humor, helped them talk things out emotionally, and got angry in that scary way when any of the others were insulted (Tony only flashed a grin when he himself was insulted, which caused a surge of protectiveness in Steve) and when Steve said scary, he meant terrifying. He went from happy go lucky to cold with undercutting words in just a second.

Those were just a few ways Tony helped the team; there was so much more he did. Such as the legal things that Steve couldn't wrap his head around. So the captain did the SHIELD paperwork while Tony handled the money, the damages, the paparazzi, the news crews, interviews, team image, and other things. Steve had no clue how he did it, but he was extremely thankful for what he did. 

And how did he thank him? By not noticing he was sicker than a dog, held down by the weight of the blame he placed on himself, and suffering from night terrors. Steve was more observational than someone might guess when off the battle field, and last night he had a lot of time to think. It was then that he realized how different Tony had been acting and kicked himself mentally multiple times. He'd been so concerned about Bucky and Hydra that he'd ignored one of his best friends. 

Yes, he thought it. Tony was one of his best friends. They started off as rivals, yet now Steve couldn't imagine life without Tony there. His teamate, his friend, his confidant. 

He didn't know how to approach the secret of knowing that something else happened to Tony's parents. He had his suspicions of who had done it, but it was a definite fact that Howard and Maria Stark did not die because of an accidental car crash. He needed to tell Tony, but how? He'd kept this secret, waiting for the right time and insisting Natasha not say a word because he wanted to do it himself. 

It had been three months since he found out. How was he supposed to tell him now?

Man up and be a best friend, that's how. 

He hardly noticed when Clint came to stand beside him, only reacting with an eyebrow raise when his friend leaned gestured for him to lean down a little. He did so and Clint whispered in his ear: "Take him to the barn. He'd be more comfortable there and I think a little fresh air might do him some good. Also, has anyone told you that you are way too tall?"

Steve couldn't help but smirk a little at the comment as Clint walked away. He noticed that Bruce was done examining Tony. He walked over, smiling nervously. "Hey Tony," he said. 

"Mornin' capsicle," Tony said with a lazy smile, his feet propped up on the coffee table. To anyone else, he would look completely relaxed, but Steve could see the minuscule tension between his shoulders that he was trying to hide and the way he couldn't look him on the eyes for very long. 

"I was hoping I could talk to you.... alone?" He stated the word as more of a question, stuffing his hands in his pockets momentarily. Tony hummed and then stood, swaying slightly. Steve instinctively put his hand on his shoulder to steady him and the genius didn't knock it away. 

"Where to?" Tony asked, glancing at him. His face was still pale and with his enhanced abilities Steve could hear Tony's lungs working overtime to try and clear out the offending sickness. 

"The barn?" He suggested. "Some good air will do you wonders." Tony nodded and they headed out after Tony pulled his shoes on, Steve's hand still on his shoulder. He wasn't sure exactly what he was doing. Steering him? Steadying him? Either way, he didn't move his hand and Tony gave no indication he wanted him to. 

The morning sun was warm on their faces and he could see the way Tony's mood seemed to lift a little bit and he looked like he enjoyed the sunlight. Clint was right, fresh air would do him some good. 

They made it to the barn without incident and Tony moved from his hand to look around. Steve watched him examine old engines and tools for a few minutes before speaking. "I want to apologize for what I did yesterday. You were clearly not doing well and I didn't notice. As team leader and your friend, I should not have spoken to you in the tone I used and it was really mean of me." The words flowed out of him before he had a chance to think about what he was saying. He calmed his mouth shut and stuffed his hands in his pockets once more. 

Tony's expression did something strange. It went from being startled, to confused, then acceptance. He nodded and walked over. "I forgive you, Steve. I know we were all a little tense."

Steve shook his head. "Yeah, I was tense and frustrated Tony, but I had no right to take it out on you. There was no reason for me to get angry with you. I should have noticed something was wrong instead. I'm sorry."

Tony tilted his head and nodded once more. "Alright, Steve. I forgive you. I really do. Now, could we get back to the house? I'm hungry." He started to move around him, but the taller man stopped him. 

"There's something else I need to tell you. Something I should have said the moment I got to talk to you again." 

Tony froze, his eyes calculating and confused. He stepped back away from Steve, standing in front of him. He slowly crossed his arms, expression a mix of fearful and curious. "What is it?" he asked after the silence dragged on for a minute. Steve moved words are in his mouth, trying to figure out the right way to phrase what he wanted to say, but was there really a right way? He was about to tell his friend that his parents had been murdered by Hydra and that he'd known. 

"Do you remember the data dump?" He blurted out. 

The genius raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, of course I do. That was one heck of a mess. I was swamped for days with calls and trying to save valuable personal information of good SHIELD agents and their families. I still don't understand why you didn't call me if something fishy was going on with SHIELD. I'm am expert on getting through their firewalls. I could have told you anything you needed to know before going into such a dangerous situation," Tony berated him. Steve could only nod. 

This was why Tony was his second in command. He knew how to tell him off when he was wrong, and he also knew the tech and buisness side of the Avengers far, far better than Steve did. "I know. I screwed up. I should have called you," he said earnestly. 

Tony nodded in confirmation, shoulders sagging just a little. The spiel had visibly drained him quite a bit, but there was no way he could suggest they drop whatever else he needed to tell him when Tony already knew there was something they needed to talk about. "I think you need to sit down," he said, guesturing toward the crate nearby. 

"No, I don't."

"Tony, you do. Not just because you're sick, but because of what I need to tell you. You're going to want to be sitting, so sit." He practically begged. Tony hesitated, then complied. 

"Steve, what exactly do you need to tell me?" His friend asked, brown eyes trained on him. 

He took a deep breath and slowly began to explain. He started with what exactly happened to James Barnes as he hadn't yet had enough courage to talk about everything with his teamates. Natasha may have been there, but she hadn't seen some of his interactions with Bucky. Tony listened intently, head tilting the the side at times like he wanted to ask a question, but he held his tongue. 

"But there was something else we learned, Tony, and it's really hard to say. I should have told you as soon as I knew and there's no excuse that I didn't." He drew in a deep breath. "Your parents..." he paused as he saw Tony stiffen a little. "... the crash was staged, Tony, and it wasn't the impact that killed them. It wasn't..." he broke off, wiping at his face. 

"What did?" Tony asked, eyes frantic for an explanation. Steve composed himself the best he could because his friend needed to know and it was wrong to leave him in suspense like this. He wasn't telling a horror story around a campfire or thinking up a mystery novel plot, this was reality. A horrible reality. 

"Hydra sent out an assassin and... I haven't gotten any proof, but I think... I think it was the Winter Soldier," he finally got out. He felt a mixture of relief at getting it off his chest, but also felt like the ground should swallow him whole and never spit him back out again. He watched the unguarded emotions swirling in Tony's eyes, from surprise, to realization, to hurt, to anger. Brown eyes burned with fire that Steve knew was only a defense. 

Tony stood up, swaying a bit. With shock or sickness, Steve didn't know, but he did know that when he reached out to steady him instinctively, his hand was slapped away. "Don't touch me," Tony said through gritted teeth. Steve held his hands up in surrender, his body sagged with emotions. He needed to help his friend, but he didn't know how. Could he call himself Tony's friend anymore? He had kept such a big secret. He had betrayed him. 

The genius had been betrayed far too many times. Steve remembered when he first learned of the betrayal of Obadiah Stane and he had swore to himself to never be another betrayal. He had broken his oath. He remembered berating Tony for keeping the secret of Ultron. 

What a hypocrite he was. 

"You've known for months," Tony began with a voice full of cold, hard anger. "You've kept this from me, Steve. I have been funding these searches, not knowing you were going after my parents'-" he broke off and Steve could see the anger ebbing away to pure hurt in the brunette's eyes. "You knew and- and you didn't tell me." The words were broken up and there were now tears in his eyes. 

After a moment of silence, Steve spoke. "I'm sorry, Tony. I'm so, so sorry. There's no excuse for what I've done to you and I'm sorry. I could say it a million times, but I know that it won't change what I did." He got no response, but he didn't expect one. "I'll do whatever it takes to mend our friendship, unless you don't want to..." the silence was heavy and Steve forced himself to keep looking at Tony. 

"I get to punch you once in the suit, then we're even," Tony said in a choked voice. 

"Done," Steve said. He knew it would take far more than that to fix what he broke, but it was a start. It was a sign that not all was lost. He held out his arms hesitantly, because Tony looked like he was about to fall apart. The emotion of this conversation and his sickness was a horrible combination.

The genius stepped forward and practically fell into his arms, pressing his face into his shoulder. Steve held him up because that was what friends, brothers, did. He didn't comment when he started to shake with repressed sobs or when a wet spot began to form on his sleeve, just held him comfortingly. But he did comment when Tony's head shifted and his forehead touched the skin around Steve's neck. He was burning up, similar to when he collapsed the day before. 

"Tony, you're burning up," he stated the obvious, gently pulling the genius away from him a bit. His friend resolutely kept his head down, probably to hide the tears that were undoubtedly covering his cheeks. He watched Tony rub at his eyes for a moment, then the blonde pressed his hand to his forehead, reassessing his temperature. "Look at me," he said gently, but urgently. Tony looked up and Steve could see that his red-ridden eyes were dull and unfocused. 

Tony suddenly pitched forward and Steve caught him once more before lowering him down to sit on the crate again. His head lolled onto his shoulder while he leaned against him, eyes fluttering a bit. Brown eyes looked around lazily and Steve noticed that his breaths had started coming far shorter than they should be and he could hear the wheeze in his lungs. Steve searched for his phone in his pocket, but cursed loudly when he didn't find it. 

"Language," Tony croaked and Steve found himself cracking a small smile. If he was able to make a joke, then he wasn't on death's door. 

"Sorry, just slipped out." He said back in his most serious tone, but he could tell Tony knew he was joking by the way that familiar cheeky smile came onto his pale face. The smile left after a moment and the man blinked, eyes looking somewhere else as he said. "Cooper?" 

At the name of Clint's son, the captain looked over and saw the young boy standing off toward the wall, frozen in place. Steve hadn't seen him cone in through the front door, so he nust have came in through the back. "Cooper," Steve called. "Go get Clint and Bruce." 

The young boy was immeadiately running out the doors, leaving them swinging as he sprinted off to the house. Steve looked back and felt his heart drop when he saw Tony's eyes were now closed, one hand settled over his chest and face pinched in fear and pain. "It's going to be okay, Tony." He whispered, pulling him toward him and raising him up a bit more, hoping that would make it easier to breathe. 

"Obadiah..." 

"He's not here, Tones. I promise. He can't get you. I'm right here." He said and watched as some of the fear drained away. Steve continued to tell him how safe he was, hoping that their friends were on their way and that they would hurry up. The genius sounded worse than he had been and the word 'pneumonia' came to mind. 

His mother had died of that, he thought as his hold became more protective, as if he could fend off the sickness as if it was a physical being. 

His mom. Bucky. Peggy. So many people were gone from his life. He would not lose another. Not if he could help it.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things got worse, then a little better? Maybe? 
> 
> Please note that there is some slight Wanda bashing due to the time frame of this fic. Don't worry - she's going to get her redemption, just in a different way than in the movies. This is an AU, afterall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Sorry that this chapter has taken me so long to get up. I was having a lot of trouble with writer's block - I still am having trouble with it. I might end up disappearing for a while for some life reasons, but I am determined to finish this story, even if it takes me a year. I'm sorry this chapter is fairly shorter than the others and possibly cringeworthy at points, but I really wanted to update. You readers have given me so much support and encouragement and I am incredibly grateful.

Clint sprinted to the barn after listening to a few words from his panting son who was in almost hysterics. He didn't have to look to know Bruce and Natasha were on his tail, the couple filled with the same urgency he had to get to their comerades. Laura had stayed back to calm the kids, but was also getting some ice packs ready in case Tony's fever had risen too high. 

The man hoped they wouldn't have to take Tony into the hospital. They were in hiding and it was extremely likely that news would break out if Tony Stark had been admitted to the hospital. That would make it incredibly easy for Ultron to find them. 

He bursted into the barn, the door crashing into the wall with the force, and found the sight of Steve holding a seemingly unconcious Tony in his arms bridal style, jogging forward to meet them. Bruce slipped in front of him, medical bag in hand, and pressed a thermometer into Tony's ear. Clint and Natasha came forward, keeping room for Bruce to work. The dirty blonde got a full view of his prank buddy's situation and couldn't help the emotions swelling inside him. 

Tony's face was pale and his eyes were closed. The only color was in his rosy cheeks and his brown hair was plastered black to his forehead with sweat. He was shivering despite the heat in the stuffy barn and his eyes were more sunken, the bruises under them looking deeper than they had been. 

"What happened?" Natasha questioned Steve. The blonde opened his mouth to answer when the thermometer beeped rapidly, flashing bright red. 

"104.1," Bruce reported grimly. "We need to get him back to bed and with a lot of ice. We might have to dunk him in a bath if it doesn't go down." 

"That won't go over well. Tony hates water," Clint said, finally finding his voice as he tore his gaze from his friend. He locked eyes with Natasha briefly, having a silent conversation with her in a language only they understood. She nodded and ran out of the barn, sprinting toward the house. 

All of them knew that Tony Stark had a fear of water that came from his three months capture in Afghanistan. The genius had confided in them after he was pulled into the pool during a team vacation when he refused to get in, none of them expecting the panic that followed. He trusted them with his fears, and it had made something In Clint a little more... protective, of him. He also hated Obadiah Stane impossibly more when he saw the effects on him, not just read about it. 

Tony stirred a little as they began to move toward the house, causing the group to tense up and radiate with false hope that he might open his eyes, but he didn't. Clint reached out and pressed what he hoped was a comforting hand onto his forehead and watched as Tony's face screwed up for a moment, then relaxed. Steve's arms tensed, holding him a little closer to his body. 

They made their way back to the house, moving slower than Clint liked but there wasn't much of a choice when Tony kept fidgeting and making a sound like a pitiful mewl, body burning up. They needed ice on him, and fluid in him. The archer didn't know how they were going to do the latter, considering the unconcious state. 

It felt like forever before they got into the house and up the stairs. Laura was distracting Lila and Cooper in the boy's room, by the sounds of it, and Natasha was already in the guest bedroom that had come to be known as Tony's room. Two ice packs were already on the bed, the sheets pulled back, and Natasha holding more ice packs in her arms. Every bag was wrapped in a tea towel so the cold wouldn't touch bare skin. 

Steve placed Tony down on the mattress, gently adjusting his limbs to where they were splayed out. There was a small whine of protest from the sick man, who's eyes opened blearily as Bruce and Clint moved the bags of ice around to the best positions. The man's temperature was worryingly high, higher than it had gotten when he collapsed the first time. 

The usually sharp brown eyes were clouded, dull as they moved around the room, not quite taking anything in. He shivered harshly before a round of coughing had Steve raising him up a bit. The coughs were chest rattling and loud, a wheeze now easily audible as the brunette tried to suck in air. 

Water. He needed some water. Clint grabbed the glass and pitcher from the bedside table, both empty, and sprinted down the stairs again. He jumped the last five to get to the bottom quicker, using the momentum to throw himself into the kitchen. He slid around the counter and to the sink. Turning the tap, he filled the pitcher with water and grabbed ice with two glasses. Moving quickly, he filled the pitcher with ice and water before running back up the stairs, barely remembering to turn the water off. He had to go slower now, with the water that brimmed on both the cup and pitcher, but he managed to get back to the room in record time. 

He settled the pitcher onto the bedside table once more while Natasha took the water from him. Bruce was now trying to coax Tony into taking some water, the barely concious genius squirming and not listening. He was shuddering at the cold of the ice packs and Clint winced with sympathy, but they couldn't let him overheat. 

"Steve, with me. We're going to go get fever reducers," the archer said, already leaving the room. The soldier had been standing off to the side, unable to do anything besides wring his hands anxiously. Clint knew his friend needed something to do and hastily followed him. 

They raided the medical cabinet until they found a partially full bottle of liquid medicine that would be best for the situation. Steve also found it in pill form. "Which would be better?" The blonde asked. 

Clint shrugged, glancing up the stairs. "Take both. We'll ask Bruce." It was unclear to if Tony was even going to take the water, much less medicine. The man worried that they would have to put him on an IV, which he might not have. Their medical kit was full of different supplies due to his mission, though, so maybe they would find something. 

An hour later found Clint once again sitting at Tony's bedside, only this time Steve was there, pacing back and forth across the room. The room had been over crowded and while no one had wanted to leave, the kids needed tending to, the house needed maintained, and food needed to be made. Clint and Steve had volunteered to stay for a while as others peaked in every once in a while, asking in a whispered tone if they needed anything and how Tony was so they could pass the message on. 

The genius had ice packs over his body, a thin blanket pulled up to his neck. He shivered near constantly, but if they wanted to bring his stubborn fever down without putting him in an ice bath that might trigger a flashback, this would have to happen. His temperature was now 103.5, which wasn't an incredibly improvement, but it was improvement nonetheless. 

Bruce checked in the most. He used a stethoscope to listen to Tony's overworked lungs, a grimace forming on his face every time he listened. Clint couldn't imagine what he heard, considering the man's decreased lung capacity and how fast he'd come down again. The doctor said he had pneumonia, which was really bad but not surprising. If his temperature didn't go down or breathing became more difficult than it already was, then they would have to take him to the hospital. 

To think he had been improving so much that morning. He hadn't been good, but he had been better than the day before. All of that recovery went down the drain in less than two hours and Clint wondered multiple times as he sat there if it was due to emotion. What had Steve said to him? 

He watched the Captain pace back and forth for another minute before sighing. "Sit down, Steve. You're making me tired just watching you," he whispered, rubbing a hand down his face tiredly. He glanced at Tony again and noted how his breathing was coming a little stronger, less stuttery and a bit deeper, or maybe that was just a trick of his hope. He didn't look at Steve settled down in the other chair on the opposite side of their friend. 

The room was quiet for several minutes, the only sounds being their breathing until Steve whispered something to himself, "Gosh, how did I not notice?"

"Notice what?" He whispered back. The blonde sighed. 

"He hasn't been sleeping. He wasn't eating that much before he became sick. Heck, it's been harder to drag him out of the lab lately. I thought he was just being stubborn, but now..." 

"He has more nightmares than we knew of," Clint mumbled, voice solemn. "He saw something up there, Steve, and ... and that witch played on it." The archer stood abruptly and started pacing like the captain had, hands behind his back and mouth pressed into a thin line. He was aware of the blue eyes watching his movements, but he could care less. Tony was his best friend and they hadn't been listening to him. They had all been somewhat willing to blame him for Ultron and something in Clint wanted to curl up and die at that thought. Guilt swirled in his stomach, pushing at the back of his throat. 

"That witch," he spat with venom. "She showed you all something, your worst nightmares, and we didn't even think of her having gotten to Tony. He'd been acting even stranger, became more closed off to everyone but Bruce, I..." a hand landed on his shoulder and he was surprised to see that Steve had stood without him noticing, too wrapped up in his anger at the witch and himself. 

"We know we all did wrong, Clint," he said softly. "But we can't change the past. All we can do is try to make up for it now." 

The spy slumped a bit with a heavy sigh, feeling his anger retreat into a dull flame for a moment. "So what will we do about the manipulator and her brother? We can't just let them roam free." 

"Give them another chance."

It was not Steve who said the croaked words, but Tony. Both of them turned to see the genius pushing himself to sit up, brown eyes focusing on them. His breathing was still harsh and sweat still covered his hair and clammy skin, but he was aware. 

Neither Clint or Steve moved, which seemed to cause Tony to roll his eyes and reiterate in his hoarse voice: "Give them another chance." He coughed harshly into his elbow and his shoulders shook with the force of it. That pushed the other two heroes into action as Steve moved and placed a hand on Tony's back as Clint grabbed the water from earlier. It was still cold. 

The archer helped his friend drink the water as his grip was too weak to even hold the glass properly, much less keep it from sloshing. The coughing eventually faded and half the cup of water disappeared. Tony sighed audibly and Steve gently pushed him to sit back. There was a slight tension between the two, but Clint couldn't figure out the cause of it. Unless Steve hadn't actually apologized... 

"How are you feeling?" He asked, pushing away the questions to the back of his mind. Tony opened his mouth with a defiant expression on his face, so Clint quickly interjected, "don't you dare say 'fine.' It you do, you will regret it."

"What would you do? Throw a shoe at me?" Tony asked, voice slightly less rough than before. He wiped at the sweat on his forehead as Clint nodded very seriously. "That's low, Barton."

"Aim low and get the best results. That's why they tell you no hitting under the belt when boxing. The match would be over too quickly." 

A wry smile formed on Tony's face at the comment and Clint couldn't help but return it for a few brief seconds. "Now answer the question, shellhead," he prompted. 

"I feel like I got hit by a truck and an eighteen wheeler," he said flatly. "What happened? I have no memory after..." he glanced at Steve, who mat his gaze for a short moment. Tony shook his head like he was clearing it as he turned back to Clint. "It gets hazy. So, what happened?" 

The archer wanted to ask what was going on, but at the same time he knew not to get in on and Steve and Tony argument unless it was banter or a loud argument. This silence was unnerving and made it known that there was a big issue going on that they weren't going to talk about with the team around. "You passed out," he said instead. "Again. You nearly gave me ten heart attacks."

"That's not anatomically possible," Tony muttered with a raised eyebrow. "You can not have ten heart attacks at once."

"It's called sarcasm, genius."

"Aw, you finally admit I'm a genius," Tony grinned and Clint could only shake his head in exasperation, yet relief was flooding his chest. If he can joke, he's on his way to being fine. Then again, he did crack a joke after nearly dying in a wormhole after taking a nuke into it, which now causes him nightmares that none of them knew about until recently. 

"An idiot genius," Clint corrected, getting a look that was an almost pout. Tony's back was now resting against the headboard while Steve's hand sat on his shoulder. The brunette's breathing was still worryingly short and it occured to Clint that he shouldn't be talking so much. "You need to rest some more."

"I've been stuck in this bed for like a day," Tony grumbled, which turned into another bout of coughs. 

"Stop talking so much," Clint said firmly, but not unkindly as he brought the glass back to Tony's mouth. Steve lightly patted the man's back, face pinched in concern. Could he hear Tony's lungs? 

The door opened. "Tony," Bruce breathed out, practically running over to the bed as the engineer's coughing fit finally stopped after one last painful hack. He drank what was left of the water and more after Clint refilled it. 

"Hey, Brucie," Tony greeted, waving a hand tiredly. Bruce put his stethoscope on from where it hung around his neck, slipping the end under his friend's shirt and pressing it to his back. "That's cold," the sick man winced. 

"Sorry," Bruce mumbled as he listened to something only himself and probably Steve could hear. He nodded to himself after a long minute of silence and hung the stethoscope back around his neck as he spoke: "Your lungs sound a little better than they did earlier, but not by much. You should be on bedrest for a couple of days, but with Ultron..." the unspoken mention of the battle that was for sure to come hung in the air. 

Clint looked down, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. The threat of Ultron hung heavy over their heads, but there were moments where he forgot all about him. Not all good moments, but moments. Ultron was like ocean waves - you get a chance to breathe before being pulled under again. 

He glanced up when the door opened and Natasha walked in. Her tense shoulders relaxed a bit when she saw Tony sitting upright in bed. "Nice to see you awake, Tony," she said, relief showing in her usually blank tone. 

The genius gave her a lopsided grin, eyes glazed with fever and exhaustion. "Did you miss me, Agent Romanoff?" He asked. Her lip twitched up and Clint knew it had to be some kind of inside joke. She moved by Bruce as the doctor rummaged through his medical kit, mumbling to himself, and pressed her hand to the man's forehead. Tony looked confused for a second longer than he should have before batting her hand away. 

"Still burning up," she said, more to herself than the others in the room. 

"Hopefully in a good way, too," Tony responded, but he was becoming less and less coherent by the minute, the spaces between his words long and his energy visibly lagging. He glanced around with lazy brown eyes and mumbled, "looks like the gang's all here," before dropping off to sleep again. Steve and Nat adjusted him so he was still propped up on the pillows, but his head wasn't lolling at a bad angle. 

"When he wakes up again, he needs to take more medicine," Bruce said as he closed his kit. He took Tony's temperature again - 103.2 - and said that he would take next watch over. Clint and Steve protested, but were told very sternly that they needed to eat. Reluctantly, they headed down to the livingroom where Laura was just entering with Subway sandwiches. The two superheroes helped her set the table for dinner silently, Clint working on autopilot as his mind wandered back to the sleeping, sick man upstairs, his thoughts turning into one plea. 

'Please get better, Tony.'

It may have been irrational for him to think that Tony wasn't going to get better, but he had watched his best friend crash so many times in the past few days from this sickness. He would take two steps forward, only to he pushed four steps back. He had no clue what happened in the barn and he doesn't think he wanted to know, but he hoped that it wasn't too much for the genius to handle, mentally or physically. It had obviously cut deep and there was a tension in the air between Steve and Tony, but also something else. Something Clint couldn't quite put his finger on, which was saying something because he had been a trained assasin for years. 

'He'll get better,' the archer thought as he went to place another plate down, only to realize that this was Tony's place where he had sat for the meals they shared here. With a slightly trembling hand, he held the glass plate in a near crushing grip. 'He'll be fine.'

He had to be.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath and before the battle.... the finale begins and ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! 
> 
> I know, I know, it's been a.... long time. I'm sorry. I have spent the last week pushing through the writer's block and got out a couple thousand more words to end this story. I might add more chapters later on, but for now this will be all. I hope you enjoy! :)

Tony knew where he was when he woke up the next time. He didn't know how he should feel about getting so comfortable with this room being his in his mind, but what he did know was that he felt a lot better than he was the last time he woke up and was coherent enough to think. He touched his forehead, trying to gauge his temperature - maybe a little above normal? Dropping his hand, he glanced around the left side of the room, noting the weak light coming in from the window before looking at the clock. 6:37 in the morning. 

A yawn forced its way out of him and he covered his mouth with his hand as he looked lazily to his right, only to near jump out of his skin with surprise. Steve was sitting at his bedside in the armchair, dead asleep with his head lolled onto his chest. Worry lines creased his face and he looked both older and younger than Tony had ever seen the Captain look, tense even in his sleep, his usually perfectly combed hair a mess of blonde on his forehead, and he was wearing clothes that were slightly too big for him. Slowly, the genius sat up, trying to be quiet as he stretched out his stiff muscles. How long had he been asleep? He had a few fuzzy memories, but his last coherent one was in the barn. 

He sighed at the memory of their interaction, a harsh pang going through his heart. His parents' death, his mother's death, wasn't just an accident. It was murder. Steve's best friend killed- no. He shook his head, trying to physically remove that last thought from his brain. Now that he had time to think about it more, even if it had been hazy thoughts, he knew that it wasn't James Barnes who killed his parents. It was the Winter Soldier, Hydra's creation. Hydra killed his parents. 

The worst part about the situation wasn't that it had opened the wound of grief for his mother, but that Steve, someone he considered one of his best friends, had kept it a secret from him. He had stared at Tony's face, talked to him, and never brought up the fact that he had found out the real reason his parents died on December 16th. He must have been worried he would help or fund the search for Bucky. Tony sighed, running a hand over his face. He still would have helped, didn't Steve know that? He knew their friendship was rocky, but didn't he know he could depend on him outside of battle? They had more to work on than Tony thought. 

Finally, he decided it was time to wake the old capsicle up. "Cap," he whispered. The blonde stirred slightly, but didn't wake up. "Steve," he whispered, raising his voice a bit. "Earth to Steve," Tony finally said in his normal tone, reaching out and shaking his shoulder lightly. Finally, the soldier woke with a start, blinking his eyes in surprise. Tony raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to gather his bearings. 

"Tony," he finally said, sitting up straight. "Your awake." There was audible relief in his voice and it pulled at his heartstrings - something he said he didn't have. It was just... touching to know he was so worried. About him of all people. 

"What an astute observation." He rolled his eyes, but a small smile pulled at his lips. "Yes, I am awake." He stomach growled. "And I'm hungry." Steve chuckled. 

"Hi, hungry. My name is Steve Rogers. Strange, you look like my best friend, Tony. You may have heard of him, considering he's the genius who created the Ironman suit. Oh, and does a lot of self sacrificial stunts," he said cheekily. Tony rolled his eyes so far back in his head he almost saw his brain, realizing two seconds later that the throbbing in his head that had been near constant in his sickness had stopped. Huh. 

"You're so hilarious," the brunette deadpanned, fighting back a smile. "Really, comedy gold. You should open a comedy barn. You'd make millions." 

"Well, thank you, Tony," Steve said, but his smile faded. He felt a pit in his stomach because he had a feeling he knew exactly what the man was about to say, and was proven right when he continued. "We need to talk. About what happened in the barn. I know-"

"Stop," he held up his hand, turning his body so he was facing Steve completely. "I don't blame Barnes, if that's what you're going to say. Yes, it's a shock that the real reason my parents died wasn't what I thought. I... I can heal from that. But, what I don't understnad is... why didn't you just tell me, Steve? You have looked me in the eyes so many times and just never said anything. You criticized me for keeping secrets when you were keeping one from me. If you're worried I wasn't going to help you search for Barnes if I knew, then you don't know me as well as I thought you did. Just... please. Explain to me why you didn't tell me." Desperation was seeping into his voice despite how hard he was trying to hide it. He just wanted to know. Was that too much to ask?

The supersoldier sighed and looked toward the window. Tony waited as patiently as he could, twiddling his thumbs as each second seemed to drag on for eternity. "I'm going to be honest," Steve said after a minute, turning his wayward back to him. "I thought you wouldn't help, but looking back now I realize how stupid of a thought that was. You've been nothing but generous to our team and you've always been willing to put yourself on the line for us." He took a breath and let it out slowly. "I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you to get hurt, Tony. I knew the hurt knowing would cause you. I knew you would feel grief again and I know how much that emotion hurts and I just wanted to protect you, but I was only hurting you more with each passing day that you didn't know, and I am so, so sorry. I could say it a million times and it wouldn't be enough. I know your forgiveness will not be an easy thing to get, and your trust in me will be even harder to fix than that, but I'm willing to wait as long as it takes. I'll do whatever it takes because I don't want to lose you as a friend, Tony." There was raw emotion in his eyes - desperation mixed with hope. 

The genius considered his words for a long minute before saying, "okay." The way Steve lit up made a small smile form on his face. "Yeah, you're right my trust will be hard to get back, but... I forgive you. Don't ever do anything like that again. I still get to punch you with the suit, right?" He asked, more of a joke to try and get rid of the emotional atmosphere that surrounded them from head to toe. 

"Of course. Anything," Steve said immeadiately, which both surprised Tony and made his heart do that strange panging sensation again. He really did mean what he said, didn't he? "A deal is a deal, afterall." Tony felt his lip quirk to the side in a smirk before he pushed the blankets away, only to be stopped by Steve's hand on his shoulder. He looked over at him with a raised eyebrow once more as the Avenger's captain looking him over with concern. "Should you be up yet?" He asked. 

"I feel fine, Cap," he argued. He got a doubtful look from the man which was understandable with how many times he had said he was fine in the last week and wasn't. "Alright, I'm near fine. And I'm being serious. No joke, I feel better than I have in a week- hey!" While he was talking, Steve had stuck the thermometer in his ear. He rolled his eyes again and grumbled quietly to himself until the contraption beeped. 

"99.7 Fahrenheit," the blonde reported, relief in his tone but also a pointed look directed at Tony. "Not quite out of the woods yet." 

Tony waved him off dismissively. "It's not technically a fever anymore," he shot back. "It's ran it's course. I'm good now and we kind of have bigger fish to fry- that means we have bigger problems than me being slightly under the weather, if you didn't get that reference. How long have I been asleep?" He swung his legs over the side of the bed, only then realizing that he was dressed in a loose t-shirt and sweat pants. "And where can I get some good clothes?" 

"You're still not completely well Tony, but I already know there is nothing I can do to stop you. You're stubborn as a mule," Steve said with a defeated sigh. Tony had to resist the urge to chuckle at that. Hos face twisted into a different expression as he thought, emotions flying through his eyes that he couldn't quite decipher. "Two days," he finally said, which made the genius balk. He had been asleep for two days? He could have sworn it had only been a couple of hours. "There are clothes in the drawer. I'll let you change." He stood and started for the door. 

"Hey, Steve," he said, a pinch of mischief in his voice. "could you not tell the team I'm awake? I would rather it be a surprise." 

His friend looked back at him with exasperation clear on his face, but he nodded anyway. "Sure, Tony, just don't give them any heart attacks. We definitely do not need that right now." He opened the door but paused halfway through the opening. "I'm glad you're okay, Tony. You really scared me there, in the barn." 

He felt his heart soften a little at the blatant show of vulnerability. Not many people worried about him before the Avengers, but now he had a team to back him up when things got rough. He had a bigger family than he ever imagined having. "Sorry. I'll try not to do it again," he said earnestly. He shocked himself with how willing he was to follow through. He had vague memories of Natasha reading to him, Bruce touching his forehead, Clint rambling at his beside, Laura telling him about the kids' latest antics, and the kids themselves playing beside his bed, explaining out loud what they were doing. With every touch and word, he could feel the worry in the air, almost taste it. He was used to doing dangerous stunts, on and off the battle field, but he never thought so many people would want to help him. He thought he could only depend on Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey for the longest time, and now he was figuring out that other people had his back, too. 

Steve nodded, a small smile on his face before he disappeared out the door, closing it behind him. Tony went and grabbed the clothes, trying to give himself something else to focus on besides his roaring thoughts and the impending battle that was approaching with every minute that passed. He decided to take a quick shower in the conjoining bathroom before changing and it was honestly the best feeling in the world. He hadn't taken a shiwer in days and it felt good to get the cardboard-like clothes away from his skin. He had been able to tell that the clothes he had gotten out of the drawer weren't his or Barton's - he hadn't brought a bag and Clint did not like AC/DC, and yet that was the theme of the shirt. He soon figured out where they came from as he found new tags on them, which brought a small smile to his face. He didn't know who bought them, but he had a hunch at who it was. 

Tugging the clothes on, of which included the aforementioned AC/DC shirt, blue jeans, white sneakers, and a black jacket that was both fairly stylish and had a soft inside, he gave his hair a good pat to try and flatten out the wayward curls and took a deep breath, turning to the door that lead put of his little bubble of privacy. There was no reason to be nervous, but he felt a pit in his stomach that wasn't from nausea. He had no clue what might be about to happen - did the team know about the Maximoff's influence on him? Did they know about his nightmares? His fears? His worries? If they did, did they think he was crazy? Would he be benched from battle since he still had a fever? The what ifs were driving him crazy, but there was only one way to answer the questions. 

The genius walked over to the door, gathering his determination and mustering together all the confidence he could even with the chil still going up and down his spine. His hand only hesitated on the doorknob for a brief second, but it was still long enough to have him yelling at himself inside his head. There was no reason to be so scared, so why was he? Had he revealed some valuable information about himself that he tried to keep hidden while in his sickly state? He pushed the door open and strided out, noting how all the other doors were open and yet it was barely passed seven. 

When he glanced in what he knew was Cooper's room to check if the boy was still asleep, he was surprised to find both him and Lila on the floor in a blanket fort, sleeping soundly with pillows scattered around them, the girl dressed in Tinkerbell pajamas and Cooper wearing the Hulk pajamas he claimed not to have. A chuckle found its way passed his lips arms he shook his head fondly before walking in. Lila was sprawled out horizontally, her legs thrown over her elder brother's chest. Said brother's head was off his pillow, arm instead perched on it. Both snored in sync, hair a mess from moving around in the night. They were both so adorable - although Cooper might not like to be referred to as such. 

Not wanting to wake them by moving them over to the bed, he gently arranged their limbs where they would be more comfortable. He turned Lila, getting her feet away from where they were slowly getting dangerously close to her brother's face, and he slid the pillow under Cooper's head and gently put his arm on his stomach. Once both were laid in a way that was more comfortable and less in each others' way, he turned to leave. Tony could hear the team downstairs in the kitchen now, their words too low for him to make out but the light clattering of pans telling him they were preparing breakfast. He was halfway out the door when he heard a female voice call sleepily, "Uncle Tony?" Immeadiately, he spun on his heel to see Lila slowly sitting up, looking at him through bleary eyes. 

She blinked a few times, then her green irises seemed to light up as she grinned. "Uncle Tony!" She said a bit louder. It wasn't a yell, but it kind of felt like it with the force of her excitement hitting him in his heart because was she really that excited to see him? She lunged out of the blanket fort and tackled his legs in a bear hug. His brain shorted out for a moment before kicking into gear and he knelt down to hug her back. "You're all better?" She asked hopefully when she pulled away after a few seconds. He smiled. 

"I sure am, little munchkin." Technically, that was false. Steve did say he had a slight fever, but the kid looked so hopeful and he would never be one to crush that look on a child's face. Plus, why would she need to know that? 

Her grin lit up his world for a moment before she hugged him again, throwing her little arms around his neck. As he hugged her again, Tony heard another young voice. "Lila? Where-" Cooper Barton rolled onto his stomach, looking over at them with half awake eyes. It took the boy only a second to scramble to his feet, sentence abruptly cut off once he caught sight of them. "Uncle Tony, you're up," he said excitedly, running over. The curls on his forehead bounced with each step until he finally was hugging Tony, too, and the man found him trapped in a giant bear hug from the two mini agents, as he had dubbed them along with his various other nicknames for the kids. 

"Wow, did you two really miss me that much?" He joked, but part of it was a genuine question. He may have been able to hide that from everyone else, but this genuine curiosity and surprise couldn't be hid for himself like when he pushed the darkness of his nightmares to the back of his mind. It would be cruel to push this genuine happiness away from his heart and place it with such cold feelings, even if he didn't believe he deserved such happiness. He didn't deserve a lot of things he had in his life - Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, his money, his genius brain, Pepper, the team, his life, did he mention Pepper? He didn't deserve that woman. She's the only reason he's alive. She had a million chances to leave, but she stayed at his side through thick and thin. Now she was the love of his life and he didn't know what he'd do without her, and he definitely didn't deserve her. 

"Of course we did!" Lila said and despite the fact that she squealed out the words right beside his ear, he grinned even wider. "Can we build the light saber you were talking about before? Could we build two? Can they be blue and green?" She rambled off questions as she pulled away again, bouncing on her toes and clasping her hands together in front of her chest. "Please, Uncle Tony?" Cooper was trying to hide his smile as he too pulled away, but a hopeful smile was forming on his face.

"If your mom says it's okay, then yes," he said, then lowered his voice to a childish whisper as their smiles only grew brighter. "Even if she says no, we'll thinking something to make. How do you feel about robot dogs?" The two smothered their giggles and laughs with their hands. He ruffled Cooper's hair as he stood up straight, smoothing out his jacket. "Now, how about you two go ask your mother about those sabers and I'll go talk to your dad and the rest of the team, okay?" He got a chorus of agreement from the two before they raced out of the room. Tony walked behind them, watching as they ran into the kitchen. As he descended the stairs, he could see Clint, Natasha, and Bruce on the couch. Steve was settled in an armchair and was looking directly at Tony with an eyebrow raised. It was like he was silently saying, 'what exactly are you doing?' Tony just smirked, putting a finger to his lips as he made his way over to the couch. 

The closer he got, the more he could see how tired they all looked. Bruce was leaned on the arm with Natasha flush against his side, both half asleep and staring listlessly at the TV playing some sitcom from the early 2000s. Clint was stretched out on the other end of the couch, bare feet settled in Natasha's lap as he fiddled with his trusty bow. Tony put his hands on the couch, leaning against the back of it, and watching the show for a few seconds before saying aloud, "did this really qualify as entertainment back in the day? The jokes are rotting my brain more than any video game." 

Bruce and Clint both jumped, startled out of whatever daze they were in. Natasha was less startled - it was really hard to surprise her, but one day he swore he would. She gave him so many near heart attacks because of how silent she was and he just wanted to pay her back for it all - but blinked a little more rapidly that she usually would have as she turned around in her spot, smiling slightly when she saw him. Tony reflexively smiled back, but this time it wasn't one of his press smiles. Steve was chuckling in his chair, looking more relaxed than he had been in a while. 

At the same time, Bruce and Clint both stood up. The former rounded the couch to Tony, looking him over with relief as the latter turned to Steve, asking, "you knew he was awake?" and punching him lightly on the arm, only serving to make the sandy blonde laugh harder. Bruce's hand went toward his forehead and Tony stepped back instantly. He knew Bruce wouldn't hurt him, but his fear of being benched took over. The sometimes green doctor opened his mouth to say something, but then the captain stepped in. 

"I checked Tony's fever when he got up earlier," Steve said, standing and stretching. "99.7. Not classified as a fever, but I see no reason to keep him in bed. What do you think, Bruce?" He asked, turning to the shorter man. Bruce rubbed his chin in thought, looking Tony over with a calculating gaze as the entire team waited with bated breath, the only sounds being Laura's and the kids' voices and the clatter of dishes as breakfast was prepared. 

"As long as you actually take it easy, Tony, you don't have to stay in your room," he finally said, bringing a crooked half grin, half smirk to the elder genius's face. His science bro rolled his eyes in that fond way he sometimes did, but then surprised Tony by giving him a hug. Bruce rarely touched people - he barely wanted anyone touching him. To get a full on hug from him so suddenly caught Tony off guard, but he hugged him back. "Don't you scare us like that again," he whispered and Tony could only nod, just now realizing just how much he put the team through just by that little sentence. When Bruce moved away, he was surprised once more by Clint bear hugging him, although that was more expected than Bruce. 

What surprised him about as much as Bruce's hug did, was when Natasha made her way around the couch, looked him up and down, then hugged him tightly. She was never one for much physical contact, but she would often place her hand on someone's shoulder when things got rough for them. She'd done it to everyone, including him, but she was never much one for hugging. He hugged her back all the same though, keeping the confusion to himself. Natasha showing emotion was a rare thing, and he didn't need to rin it with words. "I'm glad you're alright, idiot," she said in Russian before pulling away. He opened his mouth to speak, although he didn't know what he would say. Joke? Snark? Give her a genuine thank you? A mixture of all three was pulling at him, but he had no chance to say anything because of a loud thunder boom outside made near all of them jump. (Darn superspies. It was like they were immune to jump scares.) 

The sky was perfectly clear, not a cloud in sight, but before they could step out and investigate, the reason for the thunder came walking in the front door. Thor. He looked the same as when he left (a few days ago? A week ago?), his trusty hammer at his side and his eyes determined. "Friends," he lit up marginally when he saw them all in the livingroom. "you're all here." 

"Ever heard of knocking, pointbreak? You nearly gave me a heart attack and Steve is like ninety. He doesn't need that kind of stress," Tony joked while the other three Avengers rolled their eyes, the aforementioned ninety year old shaking his head slightly. All of them had small smiles though so he felt the need to add onto the joke a little. "Seriously, why is Cap on the field? He could break a hip at any second."

"You should be the one to open a comedy barn, Tony," Steve said in reference to their conversation earlier. The genius tilted his head toward him considerately, responding with, "possibly, but I doubt Pepper would approve." 

Thor laughed lightly, but his face soon morphed into confusion. "I went looking for you all at the base where you said we would meet up, Captain. I did not expect you all to still be here. Did I get my midguardian days mixed up?" 

"No, Thor," Natasha said before placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. "We ran into a little speed bump, also know as 'Tony Stark doesn't know how to say he's sick or need help.' The man of thunder looked between him and her with confusion until the red head continued again. "In shorter terms, Tony got real sick so our plans were delayed by a few days, but we did learn some valuable information we'll tell you later." Her eyes softened as she looked back at Tony and he knew exactly what she was thinking about. Clint told them all about the scepter's influence and Tony's blame on himself. He gave her a tiny smile in response before clapping his hands. "Alright, gang is all here. Cap, I think this would be the time in a movie where you would give us an inspirational speech or something, so have at it." 

"But I'm hungry," Clint whined over exaggeratedly. "Can't the speech just be 'if you die, walk it off'? The bacon is calling my name!" Indeed, the aroma of bacon and other foods had drifted into the livingroom and Tony couldn't lie that it was effecting him, too. It felt lime he hadn't eaten in days - maybe he hadn't, at least, not much, and he was ready to eat. Why did he tell Steve to give a speech again? That fever must have fried some of his sensibly brain cells.

"Last time I said something like that, Clint got hit," Steve said with a shake of his head. Said archer responded with a whined, "but I didn't die! That counts for something, right?" A chuckle went around the room before Steve got his 'Captain-face' on. "Last time we went on the battle field, we nearly lost one of our own and we didn't realize when anorher was effected drastically. We fought each other instead of listening. We let the enemy split us up from the inside of talking, but we will not make that same mistake again." His eyes looked over each of them and instead of feeling like he was being scrutinized, Tony felt a little empowered. He knew he was the one who had been 'effected,' but he also knew for sure now that his team had his back. Doubt had been growing in the back of his mind for three hears and now that they had cleared the air, those nagging questions were gone. 

"Ultron is a new, unpredictable enemy, with a lot of power at his fingertips. We're going to have to go in as a united front or we won't stand a chance. We're a team, a family, and we need to act like it. We don't know when or where he will strike, but we're going to be ready," he said. "Get your gear together. We'll be leaving right after breakfast."

"Noon," a voice said from behind them. They all turned in unison to see little Lila Barton standing by the couch with her arms crossed over her chest, a small scowl on her face. "You can leave at noon. Mom always says that to have a good day, you need a good lunch and breakfast. Plus, Uncle Tony said he would help us build light sabers." Her eyes were wide, pleading, and adorable. Tony knew he wouldn't be able to say no if he tried. It seemed Steve agreed with this because he amended his statement with a small smile, "alright, Lila, we'll leave after lunch." 

The girl nodded, a satisfied look on her face. Laura came into the room with her own smug look. "Come on, Lila. You and your brother need to wash up," she said the kid nodded and ran into the kitchen. The woman looked straight at Tony, "I'm glad to see you up and about." Not knowing what exactly to say, he just smiled and gave a thumbs up. Wow, did so many people really miss him that much? She smiled back and started walking back into the kitchen. "Breakfast is ready whenever Steve is done with his inspirational speech," she called over her shoulder, causing the good captain to blush a bit with embarrassment. 

"Another question," Clint said, but this time he didn't follow up with a joke. He actually looked serious. "What are we going to do with the Maximoffs? The Wanda girl can get into our heads." 

"I still thing we should give them a second chance," Tony said, rushing to continue before anyone, namely Clint, could cut him off. "We know their history now. They're parents were killed when they were only ten and they didn't know Hydra's true intentions when they joined. They've probably been fed lies for years and if we get them to see the truth for themselves, then maybe they'll change over to our side." 

"And if they don't see the wrongs they've done?" Bruce asked, cleaning his glasses with his shirt, an anxious tick of his. Natasha rested her hand on his wrist and he relaxed a little, which was both cute and strange to see. He would have to get more used to them being together. "Would of they just keep fighting us?" 

"Then we shall have to fight back," Thor interjected, eyes flashing blue. "We are a team, as our comerade has said, and if we communicate, then the one with mind powers can not get into our heads. We can trap the quick one, could we not?" 

Steve nodded. "Thor is right. Communication is key and I'm sure we can figure out something to do with the speedster. We have two super geniuses on this team, afterall." He looked between Tony and Bruce, who glanced at each other before nodding in unison. They worked together seamlessly and had created some powerful and strange inventions in the past few years. Surely they could come up with something to trap a runner of they needed to. Tony just hoped it wouldn't come down to that. 

"And if they do agree to join us?" Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow. Steve looked at Tony and waited for him to nod before speaking. "Then we'll have two new Avengers on the team. They'll need training, of course, but there will be two more people to help protect the world from threats." Tony had told the blonde in an off handed comment a few weeks ago that he was thinking about retirement so he could build a life with Pepper outside of superhero buisness. Having two more heroes on the team would make it a lot easier for him to retire without too much worry. 

"Inspirational speech: check. Plan: check," Clint drawled with a crooked smile. "Can we go and eat now? My kids are going to inhale the bacon before I get a piece." They all laughed, Natasha elbowing him in the ribs while saying, "you deserve it." The archer let out a squeak that sounded a lot like the squawk of a bird which only served to make Tony laugh harder. It felt good to kaugh with minimal chance of a coughing fit, even if his lungs were hitching up a little. He wasn't 100% yet, but he may as well be. Right now, anyway. He had his team at his back and a family to lean on - he would be okay in the end. They all would. 

"Sure, Clint, just one last thing," Steve said. He paused for a long moment, all of them watching him with confusion until his mouth curled into something that was half a smirk, half a smile. Another beat of time passed before he said in his most serious voice, "Avengers Assemble. Let's eat." 

As they moved into the kitchen and settled into the oak chairs, Tony felt at peace for the first time in days. The sickness had rocked his body and he would need more time to recover, but he didn't worry about that now, only smiling and talking with the children, laughing when Laura stole Clint's bacon before he could even take a bite, and just enjoying the company of his team. His family. A few days ago, these people still felt like work buddies, but now? They were closer than ever before. The genius usually didn't like to get close to people from how many times he had ended up burned, but he found himself believing that he really could trust these people around him. As he looked over the room again, half listening to the wild story about Asgard that Thor was telling the wide-eyed children, he felt warmth filling his heart.

The Avengers, Laura, the children - they were all pieces of his family. They warmed his battered heart and reminded him that he did actually have the organ, not just a block of ice in his chest. He had learned so much in the passed few days, both good and bad things, but the knowledge that he had more people to lean on than he thought... that was the best thing of all. He would protect these people to his very last breath. 

The next twenty four hours were going to be ones full of suspense and adrenaline, he knew. Especially when it came to facing Ultron and the twins again. But no matter what happened, Tony knew they would get out of it, because they were stronger together, and they would only get better. He would look out for them and they had shown that the support went both ways. They would see tomorrow morning if Tony had anything to say about it. Families looked after each other, and that's what they were. A family. A dysfunctional, strange, hectic bunch, but a family. 

And with that thought, Tony smiled.


End file.
